By the Balls

By the Balls

Handcuffs and Lace Series

By Mia Watts

Resplendence Publishing, LLC

http://www.resplendencepublishing.com

By the Balls

Edited by Darlena Cunha and Liza Green
Cover art by Les Byerley,

www.les3photo8.com

Published by Resplendence Publishing, LLC
2665 N Atlantic Avenue, #349
Daytona Beach, FL 32118

Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-521-2

Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this
copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including
infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable
by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Electronic Release: June 2012

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product
of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

Prologue

Trick Montgomery wanted a look at the guy who was forcing him to blow his cover.

After three long fucking years of intensive investigation, the Feds had to wreck it. For a bureau

neophyte who was trying to earn his big-boy wings, and because they couldn’t fucking wait for

Trick to complete his deep cover work to file a report. No, they had to pull him out early and get

the information now.

He tossed back the last of his Jack Daniels and propped heavily against the bar on his

forearms. Trick turned his head to the left, checking out the cluster of suits at the stand-up table

nearby. One of those guys was Nathan Rohn. With his luck, it would be the pretty one with the

dark hair and lean body. Or the gangly, freckled redhead who lacked body control.

The men had taken off their coats and pushed up their sleeves. It was the businessman

equivalent of a woman letting her hair down. Trick liked muscular arms and thick male wrists,

liked long strong fingers wrapped around beer mugs. Looking at the table, he grudgingly had to

admit that the Feds had outdone themselves in recruiting attractive men.

One of the guys came up to the bar. “Hey, Ned. Another round from the tap.”

The dark-haired kid grinned widely and slapped down some bills. He looked around,

leaning against the bar as he waited. His eyes met Trick’s, and for a moment, Trick was lost in

the brown depths. Wide and prominent, they drew him in, tempting him to look longer, deeper.

“Hey,” the kid said, his smile broadening when Trick didn’t balk from direct eye contact.

“Hey.” Trick let his gaze drop appreciatively down the length of the man’s body, then

nodded toward the cluster of suits the kid had detached himself from. “After work blow-off?”

The younger man laughed, his gaze following the direction of Trick’s nod. “You could

say that.”

The way his eyes twinkled with humor meant the other man had picked up on his double

meaning.

“As far as circle jerks go, this one’s less than satisfying,” the Fed murmured before

returning Trick’s watchful gaze.

“That can be fixed,” Trick suggested. And maybe while he was fixing it, he could get a

bead on which one was fucking with his career.

“Can it?”

“Ned,” Trick said without taking his eyes off the man-boy. “Make sure that table gets

their round. Junior here has to use the bathroom.”

Ned snorted, “You got it.”

Trick stood, took a few steps backward toward the private hallway behind the bar. He

lifted a brow. “You coming?”

“Monty,” Ned called to Trick.

Trick waited for Ned to continue. Instead, the bartender tossed him a small silver packet.

Trick caught and examined it. A condom. He chuckled. Ned saluted him and returned to filling

the last of the beer mugs.

The kid’s attention lingered on the condom with a look of pure wickedness. “I’ll follow

you back as soon as I deliver the drinks.”

“No hard feelings if you change your mind, but…” Trick added, “don’t. Don’t change

your mind.” He left the main bar and eased around to the dark corridor. It paid to know the

barkeep, he thought with a feral grin.

Out of sight from the customers, Trick folded his arms across his chest and stood against

the exit used only in the event of a fire. A minute later, the Fed’s body blocked the low light.

“Back here,” Trick called.

The man approached. Trick liked the way he moved. It was a little bit swagger, a little bit

lope. It lacked the confidence of a man who’d been in his skin awhile, but it was strong enough

not to hesitate in meeting a stranger in a dark hallway. Since it approached him, it was the sexiest

stride Trick had seen in a long while.

When he was within arm reach, Trick grabbed him by the collar and slammed him

against the wall. “You sure about this? I don’t want you crying foul, later.”

The younger man grinned. “Absolutely,” he said as he grabbed a handful of Trick’s

crotch. “Shut up and fuck me.”

Trick laughed. The kid had grit. He appreciated that. He flipped him to the wall as the

Fed quickly undid his own belt and pants. Trick yanked them down to expose the full swell of

supple ass glowing in the dimly lit corridor. He unzipped his own fly and quickly smoothed the

rubber over his engorged cock, then spat several times into his hand to rub roughly on the Fed’s

hole.

“Do it,” the Fed breathed, his cheek shoved hard to the wall.

“It’ll be rough.”

“I’ll like it just fine. I’m not waiting all night. Fuck me now or miss the opportunity,” the

younger man said.

Trick needed more room. He pushed the restricting pants down the other man’s legs and

kicked his feet apart, cop-style. He had the sudden misplaced urge to read him his Miranda rights

while he shafted him. Trick bit back the impulse with a grim smile. He pushed his cock-tip in,

pausing when the Fed shuddered at the invasion.

“God, you’re huge,” the kid proclaimed.

“Changing your mind?”

“Hell no.”

Trick took the man’s dick in his hand, gave him a few well-practiced yanks, and plowed

his hips forward until Trick thought he’d take the kid to his limit.

The Fed gasped. He seemed to like the size of Trick in him. The kid pushed back, trying

to take more than Trick had given him.

Trick growled against the man’s ear. “Gonna fuck you so hard, you’ll see stars.”

Trick added a twist to each upward stroke of his hand on the other man’s cock, being as

rough as he dared without hurting him. Then when the kid started to thrust his hips back, Trick

began the urgent race to find orgasm. It was there, just in his reach. The other man added his own

brand of enthusiasm, reaching around to pull Trick’s hips against him.

Trick’s balls rocked, the swinging weight of them adding to the spiraling warm tingle that

curled the base of his spine.

“Make it fast,” the kid said.

Trick understood. They didn’t need anyone coming to look for them. He bucked hard,

slamming into the Fed’s tight hole. He nuzzled the man’s neck, inhaling his scent. The musty

smell of office air and daylong clean skin wrapped an invisible hand around his senses. As

effective as cupping his balls, his orgasm leaped nearer.

The man stiffened, choking on a cry as cum sprayed over Trick’s hand. It was enough.

Trick muffled his pleasure against the Fed’s neck, sucking desperately as hot jets shot into the

condom, deep inside the man’s body. Trick jerked a few more times.

“More satisfying than an after work beer?” Trick asked roughly.

The Fed laughed through heavy breaths. “I’d take you back to my place for more, but I

don’t take strangers home.”

“Nah, you just let them fuck you in public places.” Trick held the condom when he

withdrew and slapped the tight ass he’d just claimed.

The man turned, tucking himself away and righting his clothes. “Do you come here

often?”

Now the kid was nervous? “All the time until recently. Does that pickup line work for

you?”

The Fed laughed. “First time using it.”

Trick smiled widely. He closed his fly. The stood close enough that he knew the man

could see the dim glow of teeth. “I wouldn’t try using it again. Fuck me was far more effective.”

“I’ll remember that.”

The Fed leaned in like he meant to kiss Trick. Trick dodged.

“Never kiss a convenience fuck,” Trick told him. “It makes you look inexperienced.”

The other man lifted his chin stubbornly. Or was it determination that Trick saw in the

motion?

“I’m surprised you went for this,” Trick admitted. “You’re the kind of guy that looks like

forever.”

“And you’re the kind of guy that looks like he’d rather eat pussy,” the kid shot back.

Trick grinned again. “I guess I am something of a bear.”

“I didn’t think bears migrated this far south.”

Trick threw back his head with a hearty laugh. “Points to the suit with a sense of humor.”

The kid pushed away. “If I see you in the bar again, do I meet you in the private

hallway?”

“Yeah,” Trick murmured. “Yeah, you do.”

“Even though you think I’m a forever kind of guy?”

Trick shifted his weight. Guys that were prone to relationships were the kind of men he

generally stayed away from. This one felt different. This one left him with a sense of warmth

behind his sternum that he hadn’t felt in a while.

“Even then,” Trick agreed.

Now the Fed laughed. His was lighthearted and almost mocking. “I’m a back-hall fuck,

Monty. You don’t find your forever man in a seedy city bar. You find STDs. You find release,

but you don’t find relationship material.” He walked backward. “If I see you here again, I’d fuck

you. I’d even enjoy it, but I wouldn’t take you home to mama.”

Trick snorted, feeling a weird sense of pride for the kid who handled himself like a man.

“You got it, kid. Happy to oblige your ass any time.”

“Nathan. The name’s Nathan Rohn,” he tossed back as he exited the corridor.

Trick winced. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Chapter One

“That’s the guy?” Nathan Rohn asked his mentor dubiously. “That’s Trick

Montgomery?”

“Yep, that’s the one,” Donny Platten answered. He said it on an inhale, like he was

stretching or about to belch. Probably the latter given his mentor’s passion for breakfast

chilidogs.

Nathan watched the thug of a man as he walked by. No, walking isn’t what he did. Strut,

bulldoze, tackle-block maybe, but not walk. The man took up too much space to do something as

mundane as walking.

It was Monty. Monty as in Montgomery. Cold, sick dread pooled in the pit of his

stomach. Eight nights ago, in the bar half a mile from here, Nathan had taken this man’s cock in

his ass, and hadn’t been able to forget it. Maybe Monty had been right. He really was a forever

kind of guy, built on family and relationships and always doing what was expected of him.

Always being the good guy who didn’t take risks.

Except that night in the bar. And it had been a risk. The man who looked like he was the

papa bear of biker gangs and hotness had given him that look in a dimly lit bar, and it had been

all Nathan needed to get an immediate hard-on. He’d wanted Monty instantly. So when Monty

had suggested a back-hall fuck, it had been as simple as saying yes.

Just watching that tight ass walk away from him made Nathan want to say ‘yes’ all over

again. In a hallway, in an alley, or even in the deli the man was about to enter.

Of all the guys to have to bust and bring in, it had to be this one. Nathan was fucked.

Again.

He sighed with exasperation. “That guy?”

“You know him?” Donny, his partner asked.

“I’ve seen him before. He looks like a brute.”

“He is. To bring him in, you’ll have to do exactly what I say.”

Nathan promised he would with a wordless affirmative grunt.

Trick Montgomery shoved his hands in his front jeans pockets, almost broadening the

stretch of his shoulders beneath his t-shirt, if that was possible. Scruffy stubble covered the lower

half of his face and neck as though iron filaments had been attracted to his ruggedness the same

way Nathan’s eyes were.

“And I have to go in and retrieve him alone,” Nathan trailed off. He’d be lucky if Trick

didn’t laugh at him and tell him to get his forever-self gone. “You’re sure you want me to go in

there alone?”

“I do. Uncle Sam does. The whole fucking FBI division does. We’re taking this

sonofabitch down, and you’re the case lead on this,” Donny muttered under his breath even

though they were sitting in a closed car. The man moved passed them for the restaurant entrance.

“So what’s the exact plan?”

Donny snorted. “We go in. We get him. We take him to Quantico for questioning. That

there,” he said, nodding toward the closing front door of the restaurant, “is the ace in the hole for

this branch of the mob. When we get him, we get the boss. We’ll hoof it to Quantico by air once

they’re on our tails.”

Nathan nodded. He understood the reasoning, but he still thought it was a lame-ass idea.

“They’ll follow and flush themselves out.”

“It’s all about the leads and the proof, boy-o,” Donny agreed.

“He’s a big dude,” Nathan said, stating the obvious. His ass twitched at exactly how big

of a dude he was. His body remembered everything.

“That’s why we carry guns.” Donny held up a pair of shiny cuffs. “And today we get to

use these too.”

“I think we need to have the SWAT team in our back pocket to nab this guy. He’s huge.”

“They all go down with a single bullet when necessary. We’ll get him,” Donny assured.

“You go in and flush him out. I’ll be waiting outside the door to cuff him. Then we get in the car

and drive pedal-to-the-metal until we reach the airfield.”

“I thought we wanted them to follow.”

“Oh, they will. You don’t need to give them directions to find us once they know what

vehicle we’re driving. It’ll be getting to the helicopter before they catch up that will be the

toughest part.”

Nathan took a fortifying breath. It didn’t help. This was the first time he’d had to bring

someone in openly, and it wasn’t like this was a minor case. It was big with big targets and a big

payoff and just—big. And it was a guy he’d had nasty bar-sex with and couldn’t seem to forget.

His nerves were shot, but if he pulled this off, he’d have a chance of elevating his status a

little. Being an FBI agent was hardly plush. Being a seasoned one, well, that earned you

credibility points when the next sector newbie joined the ranks. Taking down a crime syndicate

was big-time stuff. Career-making stuff. Balking wasn’t even in the cards.

He pushed open the car and headed for the restaurant. Bob’s Deli was open for business.

A few civilians wandered in and out, but it wasn’t yet crowded by the lunch rush. The hulk had

chosen a booth in the back corner where he sipped a mug of something hot.

There were details he saw in the light of day, that he hadn’t noticed in the bar. For a few

hopeful moments, he prayed he was wrong about them being the same man. Salt and pepper hair

buzzed close to his skull looked about the same length as the stubble on his jaw. His hairline was

solid and full and as he looked up, Nathan was struck by the angles of the other man’s face. It

wasn’t pretty. He didn’t have the kind of face that drew you in with its handsomeness, but it was

powerful.

Trick’s mug, since that’s the only definition that seemed to fit, had a thick-bridged nose

that looked a little off-center. It had met a well-aimed punch in its history. His lips, though wide

and prominent, were hard edged. The top bowed, but was non-existent next to the thicker bottom

curve.

The man was solid muscle from his jaw and wide neck, to the thick builder shoulders and

arms straining through the thin cotton shirt he wore. Tattoos scrolled from underneath the edge

of both sleeves in harsh tribal spikes and swirls. One arm was decorated down the forearm where

the tattoo morphed into a taloned claw extending down each finger at the back of his hand. That

hand clutched a coffee cup in its beefy grip and sent a foreboding shiver down Nathan’s spine.

Hope died. It was definitely the same man, and his body recognized him immediately.

The target’s gaze snagged on Nathan’s. Sharp intelligence almost pinned Nathan to the

spot as he struggled with sudden intimidation in the face of his career. Trick froze. Every muscle

tightened as though he were arm wrestling and had paused mid-battle. He remembered. Trick

remembered who Nathan was and his lips pressed a firm line as he slowly rose to his feet.

Nathan made his feet work. His stomach tangled in knots as both his identity and his

purpose were about to come head to head. He moved to the back table, flashing his badge. “I

suggest you follow me unless you want everyone in here to know you’re talking to a Fed,” he

said tersely.

As Trick Montgomery reached his full height to tower over Nathan, he began to second-

guess his approach. The man looked tight and pissed. “A threat, little man? Or are you that eager

for a second round?”

Nathan tried to shrug nonchalantly, but his insides were quaking. He decided to ignore

the sexual dig. “Even the suggestion that you’re talking to a Fed wouldn’t work well in your line

of work.”

Trick’s brows rose, angling them down toward the top of his nose.

If Nathan could risk backing out the way he’d come, he would have at this point.

Trick jerked his head toward the side door.

“I don’t think so. I’ll walk out the front, thanks. You’re going to follow me, or I start

making announcements.”

Trick’s lip curled into a snarl. “Don’t fuck with me, tiny Tim.”

“Not this time.” Nathan steeled his nerves and turned his back on the lumbering hulk to

walk away, praying to God and all the baby Jesuses and their mamas too, that Trick would

follow.

Nathan stepped into the sunlight, letting the door close behind him. Seconds later, it

swung open again. Nathan blocked passing pedestrians as Donny lifted his Springfield forty-five

caliber pistol. Nathan suffered a moment of pistol envy. Success of this mission would finally

allow him to carry his own Springfield and retire the Glock twenty-two.

Trick, just as intent on Donny’s weapon but for different reasons, backed against the

opaque deli glass. “Are you fucking kidding me? Are you trying to get me killed?”

“One less criminal either way,” Donny answered. “How ’bout we take a ride in my car?”

Trick snorted but followed Donny to the car. Nathan picked up behind them, then before

their target could find his way into the backseat, Donny whipped out the cuffs and handed them

to Nathan.

Trick looked around at him, doubtfully. “Think you can manage those or should your

daddy here help you?”

“You and I’ve been through this before, Montgomery. The kid hasn’t. Give him hell if

you want, but don’t mess with me,” Donny warned.

“Or what? You’ll release again?”

“You had him and released him?” Nathan snapped.

“Don’t know why you’re complaining,” Trick murmured just loud enough for Nathan to

hear. “You released me too.”

“What are the two most important things?” Donny asked patiently.

“Right. Leads and proof.” Nathan chose to ignore Trick’s comment.

“That’s it,” Donny agreed. “Remember that and quit asking stupid questions. You’ll

never make rank.”

Trick huffed with annoyance and pushed his hands behind his back. “Un-fucking-

believable. I’m being cuffed by a baby-Fed. There’s no respect in that, Donny. No respect.”

“Shut the fuck up and get in the back. You know the drill,” Donny argued. “Agent Rohn,

get in with him and make sure he doesn’t get out.”

Nathan handed Donny his gun on the chance that Trick would try to disarm him and start

firing.

“Hey!” Someone shouted at them from the deli door.

“Go, go, go!” Donny shouted, slammed the door behind Nathan and leaped into the

driver’s seat. The engine kicked into a roar. Donny tore away from the curb, tires squealing.

“They saw you,” Trick mocked. “Your ass is grass now.”

Nathan, still off balance from the door slamming his hip, fell against Trick’s shoulder as

Donny rounded a curve too hard.

Trick shrugged him off with a snarl. “Get off me, Fed-ette.”

“Like you’re a catch,” Nathan muttered. “You’re one ugly motherfucker.”

Trick grinned, or grimaced his amusement. It was hard to tell. “Fidelity, bravery and

integrity? That is the FBI motto right? I guess they’re still training you on the integrity.”

“Shut up,” Nathan snapped, feeling like a petulant four-year-old, only irritated further

when Trick laughed.

Donny swerved onto a side road leading toward the airfield. “Almost there.”

Nathan glanced behind them. A black sedan was gaining in the distance. “We’re not

going to have much time. I hope you called the pilot to let him know we’re on the fly.”

“He’s experienced. He’ll be ready,” Donny answered tightly. His gaze flicked to the

rearview mirror.

Trick seemed calm, relaxed. Like he knew something Nathan and Donny didn’t. Like he

had no fear. “You remembered to call ahead? Look, little-Fed, pay attention so you can learn on

your first big-boy mission.”

“Shut up,” Nathan shouted.

Trick laughed. “Temper-keeping one-oh-one. Never show your nerves to the suspect.

You don’t want him to know when you’re about to lose your shit.”

“Can I shoot him?” Nathan snapped at Donny. “Can I just put a bullet in him and be done

with it?”

“Proof and leads,” Trick mimicked. “Kinda hurts your case if you kill them because you

lost your temper.”

“Get a grip, kid,” Donny roared. “Stop talking. He can’t mess with your head if you shut

your mouth.”

“Wanna bet?” Trick challenged. He sent Nathan a knowing look. “I can mess with his

head plenty. I’m damn good at it.”

“Montgomery, shut it!” Donny barked.

To Nathan’s surprise, Trick listened with a mere cock of his eyebrow and quizzical smile.

Nathan sighed in relief and shot another look out the back. The gates of the airfield they drove

through only seemed to put a scale to the dwindling distance between them and the black sedan

riding hell-for-leather on their tails.

Nathan whipped his head around. The chopper’s blades were in full motion, kicking up

debris on the tarmac. Donny slammed on the breaks, swinging the rear of the car around until it

was closest to the bird.

He dashed out of the car and opened the rear door. Nathan pushed at Trick, shouldering

him out. Donny shoved Nathan’s issued weapon into his hand. “Go, get him on board. I’ll hold

them off.”

Nathan hesitated only a moment before doing what he was told. “Call for back up,” he

shouted at the pilot.

“I did when I saw you come in hot. We gotta go or we ain’t takin’ off,” the pilot returned.

The distinctive pop of firearms was unmistakable.

“Get out of here! Go!” Donny shouted, his gun trained on the approaching vehicle.

“Backup’s coming,” Nathan shouted back.

The helicopter lifted. Nathan kept his gun on Trick who looked ready to jump. “Don’t

even think about it.”

“Your partner’s about to get dusted,” Trick yelled above the noise of the blades.

Nathan thought he saw a flash of concern in his eyes, but he had to have been mistaken.

The engine seemed to race as it lifted the chopper into the air, putting all its power behind the

blades and leaving no room to answer.

Below, Donny ducked and reloaded. Suddenly his shoulders and chest jerked. Donny

dropped to his knees. Nathan shouted, but the sound of his alarm got swallowed in the blades.

The pop and crack of glass let him know they were next as a bullet pierced the side window,

narrowly missing Trick’s head.

Trick frowned and sank down in his jump-seat as low as he could. The chopper wobbled,

tilting to the side when the pilot tried to fly away from the gunfire. Air roared through the tiny

aperture. Another phfft-ping dotted a window. The pilot shuddered but held steady.

Nathan snaked an arm to the co-pilot spot and retrieved the headphones. The mic slipped

into place. “We’re being shot at. Get out of range.”

“I noticed,” the pilot rasped. “I’ve been hit.”

“The fuel line? The propeller?” Nathan asked.

“The pilot,” the pilot told him. “I’m holding, but it’s not good.” He flipped something on

the control panel. “Mayday, mayday. I’ve been hit.”

Nathan paled. He scrambled backward in the tight confines, keeping his gun on Trick as

he tried to get into the co-pilot’s seat. “How bad is it?”

“Bad. Losing feeling in my left arm.” He turned his attention to the droning voice in the

headset to relay coordinates.

Nathan chanced a glance at him. His left hand trembled on the control. He couldn’t see

the entrance wound. From his vantage, the pilot looked grim.

“Hope you know how to fly,” the man said through clenched teeth.

Nathan put his gun away. He’d have to take his chances. Right now, he was betting that

Trick didn’t want to crash land to his death any more than Nathan did. He clutched the control.

“Keep her steady,” he said, letting go. “I’ll work the pedals and the throttle while I can.

We’ll set down when we’re out of range. The boys are locking on our signal. They’ll find you

and get you to your relay point.”

“Tell me what to do,” Nathan said taking hold of the controls.

Chapter Two

Trick hated flying. It was worse while guns were trying to bring them down. The last

thing the mob wanted was a chatty turncoat. They’d kill him before risking the alternative. Three

long years and his hard work had just gone to crap, and why? Because some tousle-haired kid

with an FBI hard-on wanted to earn his stripes.

Fuck that. Fuck it hard.

The helicopter lurched as Agent Rohn took the handlebar contraption. Judging from the

way the pilot’s left arm dangled at his side dripping blood on the floor, Trick guessed he’d been

shot. He couldn’t hear the conversation between him and the agent, but it looked like a seatbelt

would be optimal. Unfortunately, Agent Gung-ho hadn’t strapped him in.

The helicopter swerved. Trick’s stomach took a shuddering heave. God, he hated flying.

Trick dropped his head back on the seat with his eyes closed and begged the helicopter to

stay in the air. Man wasn’t meant to be airborne. Here was goddamned proof of that.

Then again, there were hidden blessings. If it weren’t for the bullets and the unnatural

careening off the ground that no non-winged being should attempt, he’d still be half-hard for the

tiny-tot with the Glock. He loved a man in uniform, especially when that man was so earnest

about his job. And especially when Trick knew how tight and hot the inside of him was.

The helicopter twisted the opposite direction. Trick’s stomach got the message late and

rolled with the chopper on a delay. It seemed like an eternity before the helicopter put down, first

on one landing skid, then the other.

Nathan ripped the headphones from his ears and reached for the pilot. His hands shook

and the poor kid looked white as a ghost. The pilot had lost a lot of blood judging from the wide,

growing pool of the thick liquid on the floorboard. His head lolled to the side when the agent

tugged the man toward him, trying to lay him across both seats.

He checked for a pulse. Seemingly satisfied, he messed with the controls until the

chopper powered down then pulled the headphones off him too.

“He radioed in our coordinates. Help will be here soon,” Nathan told him as he took out

his cell phone and dialed. When the other line picked up, Agent Rohn spoke. “I have him in

custody. Yes, sir. Yes, sir. I understand.”

They’d put down in the middle of a field with no one in sight. Trick leaned forward

trying to get the whole picture as the blades to the chopper wound down.

Nathan kept talking. “See you in thirty minutes. Yes, sir.”

He patted the pilot on the chest. “They’re coming.”

The man grunted and waved a weak hand toward the side door. “Take cover before more

than the Feds find you.”

Nathan pulled his gun from its holster. There was blood on the backs of his fingers from

where he’d checked the wounds. His hand still trembled slightly. Nothing very noticeable, just a

tremor, but it was enough to give Trick an idea of Nathan’s state of mind.

“I’m getting you out of here,” he told the pilot. “They could’ve hit the fuel line or

something.”

“Leave me. It hurts to move. If the bullet is near an artery, I could bleed out.”

“If I leave you here you could bleed out anyway, or blow up. You’re coming with me.”

After a minute, Trick tipped his head toward the door. “C’mon,” he relented. “He’s right.

Donny gave you the advantage. Take it or don’t, but if the Feds don’t find you first, you’ll be

taking fire.”

“Fuck you,” Nathan snapped. “Get out. We’ll follow.”

Trick scooted to the edge of the jump-seat. “Kinda hard to do with my hands behind my

back,” he suggested evenly.

Nathan blinked until the momentary confusion cleared. The flight had shaken him. If

Trick were anyone else, he’d have gotten away by now. He should have, but something about the

unconscious vulnerability of the agent who seemed to need reassurance spoke to Trick.

“Easy,” Trick murmured. “I just need help with the door. I’ve got nowhere to run, do I?”

“No,” Nathan answered distractedly. Then he seemed to gather his strength. “No, you

don’t. I’ll step out and open up the side. Don’t make any sudden moves.”

Trick couldn’t help the smile that twitched his lips. He ducked his head to keep Nathan

from seeing it. The night in the bar came back to him, and all the cock-stroking sudden moves of

those moments with Agent Nathan Rohn. “No sudden moves,” he repeated.

It seemed to motivate the kid into action, and he hopped out of the co-pilot door to open

the exit. Trick jumped, ridiculously relieved when his feet hit solid ground.

He almost started laughing. Here he’d been picking on the Fed for his inexperience and

apparent nerves, when that same kid had taken over the flight controls and landed them safely,

while dodging gunfire. He hadn’t frozen when his partner got shot, or panicked when the pilot

took a hit. He soldiered on, concerned but not deviating from his mission.

And what had Trick done? Prayed for deliverance from the flying beast. He supposed

everyone had their moments of heroism. Evidently, this kid was made of sterner stuff than Trick

had suspected. He worked well in a crisis.

Trick tried to reassure him by making direct eye contact. The kid had a natural squint,

which squared out his brown eyes and flattened his brows. Together with the long, lean line of

his nose and the Cupid’s bow lips, Agent Nathan was pretty. Damn pretty. It didn’t detract at all

that Nathan was good under pressure too. Not many men were.

That uniform was looking better and better. Trick supposed now would be a good time to

tell him that Trick had spent the last three years working undercover for the local police

department. Although he wasn’t sure Nathan would believe him. Trick wouldn’t if the roles were

reversed. And it would be breaking protocol to divulge his true identity. There wasn’t a pretty

boy in existence who made sharing top-secret information an acceptable liability.

But Nathan Rohn definitely tempted him to break protocol. Nathan’s close-cropped hair

barely moved in the breeze. The spiked, slick look of product left the strands as shiny brown as

the agent’s big eyes.

The kid turned, dragging the wounded man toward the open door by the legs. The pilot

complained, but it was clear he was barely hanging on to consciousness. The Fed pushed his

young shoulder into the pilot’s middle and draped the upper half of his body over to hang down

Nathan’s back.

Nathan righted himself and lifted his chin in the direction of the trees. “You lead out.”

“With you encumbered, I could take off, and you wouldn’t be able to stop me,” Trick

noted.

The hard metal of Nathan’s Glock pushed at his back. It was a rookie move that could’ve

had Nathan disarmed. Trick let it pass. The kid’s day had been rough. Besides, disarming him

wouldn’t serve any purpose other than to be a jackass. This time, he didn’t feel like pissing off a

Fed.

“What’s the plan now?” Trick questioned.

“We wait.”

“Awesome. I’ve always wanted a government sponsored vacation in the country.”

“Shut up.”

“You must be a very angry guy, Agent Rohn. Or uptight. Would you say you’re uptight?”

There was no answer. It was almost too fun. They reached the trees. There were only

three of them in the openness of a field that seemed to be located in the middle of nowhere. The

mature trees offered the only shade as far as he could see.

Nathan carefully laid the pilot out and checked his pulse. “He passed out, but he’s alive.”

Trick glanced at the agent holding a gun on him, continuing the conversation as though it

hadn’t been interrupted. “Because you seem uptight,” Trick said.

“I’m not uptight.”

“Of course not. You’re the loosest guy on the planet,” Trick said agreeably.

“I’m not loose either.”

“Really? I think you’ve proved otherwise in our acquaintance.”

“You think you’re funny. You’re a funny, funny guy aren’t you?” Nathan groused.

“I’m hilarious once you get to know me.”

“I’m not getting to know you. I’m delivering you to Quantico. Then I’m leaving you

behind.”

Trick leaned against the tree trunk. The wind shuffling leaves above their heads filled the

silence while he thought. “I’m going to have to take a leak soon.”

“How nice for you.”

“Potentially,” Trick agreed thinking of all the ways having bound hands and needing the

pretty FBI man to hold his prick could be. A man could dream. Except the urge to urinate wasn’t

a weak one and there wasn’t anything sexy about emptying his bladder as an introduction to his

cock.

“Hey, kid,” Trick tried again. “I really need to let the horse out.”

“Fine.” He said standing near him. “Do what you gotta.”

Trick canted his head to the side. “Sure. But you still have two choices.”

“Choices?” Nathan asked distractedly.

“You can either uncuff me and let me handle the barn door myself, or you can pull it out

for me. One way or the other, it’s got to happen.”

“Or you could wet your pants,” Nathan suggested.

Trick stared him down, using his best hitman stare of death that seemed to make people

in the family jump to action. All it did here was make Agent Rohn squirm and avert his eyes.

“Look, I know you didn’t plan for this seeing as how the helicopter got shot all to hell,

but needs are needs. Would it make a difference if I promised not to run?” Trick wondered.

“Not particularly.”

“Then we’re back to your choices.” Trick shrugged as he opened his stance, he feet

shoulder’s width apart. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Nathan swore under his breath.

“Feel better?” Trick asked when the stream of cuss words ceased.

“No.” Nathan stuffed his hand into his pocket.

The clink of keys reached him, and the agent withdrew his hand. He motioned for Trick

to turn around. He did so eagerly, holding his wrists away from his body to give the kid more

room to work.

“This is a bad idea,” Nathan muttered to himself.

Trick tried not to smile when the cuffs unhitched on one wrist.

“Make it quick and don’t try anything,” Nathan warned.

Trick turned away, aiming toward the road. He stole a sidelong glance at the agent. There

was a touch of pink across his cheeks and coloring the tip of his ears.

When he was done and tucked away, Trick caught his eye. “Thank you.”

“You don’t get to thank me,” he snapped. “You kill people and break legs for a living.

The last thing I want is gratitude from a criminal.”

“Or, you’re welcome works nicely,” Trick suggested lightly.

He wasn’t accustomed to levity. People looked at him and saw muscle and menace. They

didn’t look to him for the easy joke. Somewhere along the way, Nathan had stolen his shtick. Not

Chapter Three

Nathan didn’t see the move that had him pinned against the tree a split second later. Trick

knocked the gun from his hands. One moment Nathan had it aimed at his captive, and the next,

his hands were empty and his wrists were pinned above his head. Trick’s nose hovered an inch

above his.

The other man’s chest pushed against his own, warm and unyielding. Trick should have

been unappealing for all his hard angles and rough hewn features, but he wasn’t. Trick

compelled him to look deep into his blue eyes. They were dark as midnight and just as haunting

with the hint of secrets just below their surface. And all those secrets reminded him of sex.

Nathan should’ve looked away. He should’ve, but he couldn’t. All he could do was stand

there, feeling the warmth of this other man invade his senses. His breath, stale yet sweet fanned

across Nathan’s lips. It was the wrong thing to think about because it drew Nathan’s attention to

that incongruous mouth. The sleekly curved, nearly non-existent upper lip over the full, square-

ish bottom one intrigued him. What would it feel like to kiss a mouth like his? Soft? Hard?

Would he feel the upper lip at all, or would there be nothing but stubble rasping across Nathan’s

mouth?

Nathan blinked. He shouldn’t be thinking about this. Trick was a suspect. A dangerous

suspect who currently had him disarmed and pinned to a tree. Who could snap him like a twig if

he decided to.

Trick’s eyes narrowed speculatively, his brow naturally pulling together over the bridge

of his nose. That midnight gaze seemed to take in everything, stripping Nathan of any pretense

he might have tried to hide behind.

Trick’s smile slid like oil across his face as his gaze dropped to Nathan’s lips in return.

This close, there was no hiding from the truth. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Nathan was

attracted to him. And Trick knew it.

“Just a suggestion, but never free your suspect. Not for anything. Not even a piss.”

Trick’s harsh whisper rasped like sex along Nathan’s nerve endings. The tone had nothing to do

with the words. One that dripped of hot promises while jarring him with crudeness.

“Got it,” Nathan choked out.

Trick held him there a moment longer, then released his grip. He didn’t step away

though. He held his position, blocking Nathan from moving unless he shoved passed.

“I know what you’re doing.” Nathan pressed his lips together, trying to get a grip on his

self-disgust.

Trick grinned. “Do you?” He backed off, dropping to sit on the ground. He leaned back

against the tree next to where Nathan stood.

“You’re trying to unnerve me. Trying to get under my skin and distract me.”

“I’m bored, and this mission you’re on looks like it’s going to pot. I can also think of

another, better way to spend our time. Something we do very well together.”

Nathan blushed. “They’re coming with a car. When they do, we’ll be back on track.”

“Unless you have a mole, and he finds you too. I don’t suppose you have a backup plan?”

“There’s no mole, and I don’t need a backup plan.”

Trick snorted. “I’m trying to decide if you actually believe that, or if you’re trying to

keep me in the dark about your next steps.”

“Pardon me if I don’t clarify.”

Trick pulled his knees to his chest. The handcuffs dangled from his wrist like

unimportant jewelry. The man looked strangely calm, like a predator waiting to surprise his prey.

His lids drooped to half-mast and a casual smile curved his fuller bottom lip into something

resembling soft.

Nathan couldn’t place what it was about the man that drew him. Trick didn’t look like the

kind of man he usually went for. Trick Montgomery looked like a carpenter who was great with

his hands but had damaged his skin from exposure to the sun, then decided to take up weight

lifting in his free time.

He was rough, lined, hard and lacked anything that could be mistaken for softness. Yet

the sheer power of the man made Nathan’s heart speed up. His relaxed attitude was that of a man

who was comfortable in his own skin, who knew himself and his boundaries well. And damn it if

the confidence in his stride didn’t promise that he was as amazing in bed as he was in a bar.

Trick Montgomery was also scary as fuck. He wasn’t the kind of guy you wanted to run

into when you were having a bad day. No, he was the kind of guy who caused bad days. Trick

Montgomery used danger and sex appeal, power and pain. If Nathan didn’t redirect his thoughts,

and fast, there’d be no hiding the evidence of exactly how much all those traits appealed to him.

As though Trick didn’t already know.

Donny should be here. Donny wouldn’t get distracted by a hard-edged mob guy in a pair

of low-slung, well-worn jeans. Or an amazing ass.

Nathan retrieved his gun. He watched the road, keeping his charge in his peripheral

vision. Nothing. The pilot hadn’t stirred. The weather was warm, and he’d brought him to the

shade. For now, while he had a gun trained on the suspect, it was the best Nathan could do for

him.

“What about shock? We should cover him,” Trick suggested, seeming to follow Nathan’s

line of thought.

“With what?” Nathan countered. “Did you pack an emergency blanket? Because I

didn’t.”

“Whatever, he’s screwed,” Trick said.

“Do you show that same sensitivity when you off someone for the mob?”

A wry smile curled Trick’s lips.

“What, no comment?” Nathan snapped. “You were trying to be buddy-buddy two

seconds ago, but the minute we discuss the truth about what you do, you clam up?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. That’s okay, though. I forgive you.” Trick

shrugged and closed his eyes.

“Forgive me? I didn’t ask for your forgiveness. Why don’t you keep your opinions to

yourself until we get to Quantico?” Yeah, stay mad, Nathan told himself. If he stayed mad, he

couldn’t think about how fucking unprofessional he was for having wanted to kiss the damn

suspect moments ago. He didn’t deserve the badge, he thought.

“I could,” Trick murmured tiredly. “But then I couldn’t tell you that you’re cute when

you’re flustered.”

Nathan sputtered, not sure what to say but positive Trick was using Nathan’s attraction as

another tactic to throw him off his game.

“Yeah, like that,” Trick said and yawned. He blinked, meeting Nathan’s gaze again with

a steady one of his own. “Stop freaking out. You know you look good. Guys like you don’t gel

their hair and pout their lips when they have esteem issues.”

“You’re a jackass.”

“Not really. I told you, I’m a nice guy once you get to know me,” Trick reminded.

“It’s not going to work,” Nathan told him.

“What’s not going to work?”

“Quiet. No more talking until the relief comes.” Nathan moved farther away and sat. He

kept his gun trained on him just in case the big guy got any ideas about getting away.

He hoped the car arrived soon. Thirty minutes had never felt so long.

* * * *

Five hours later, they were heading toward Quantico. Trick had reclipped the open cuff to

the front passenger door handle before Nathan or the other agent could reach for them. Nathan

seemed to think Trick had decided to be obedient under the awesome power of the FBI. The truth

was simpler. It was the best way Trick knew to keep his hands off the sexy suit behind the wheel.

He supposed it helped that the backup agent was sawing logs in the back seat. Rattling

throat calls had a way of killing a mood. Thank God.

Already the day had grown long. He’d refrained from asking Nathan any further

questions and as the hours tracked by, the silence had seemed to ease the tension between them.

The kid had rolled down the windows making conversation nearly impossible.

Trick hoped whatever powers had kept them from crashing in the chopper would keep

him from reaching in the darkness for the agent later tonight. Nothing about Nathan intimidated

him. Not the gun, not the cuffs, certainly not the thick eyelashes that lined those coffee-colored

depths. Nothing. Essentially, he realized, nothing kept him from coming on to the man except

possibly the distress on Nathan’s face when he gave in. And he would give in, of that Trick had

no doubts.

Trick depressed the window button until the glass had lifted all the way up. “How long

have you been in the bureau?” Trick began.

Nathan shot him a sideways glance, but returned his attention to the road without saying a

word.

“If I had to guess, I’d say two years. Including the twenty weeks of training. I bet your

parents are proud.”

A muscled ticked in Nathan’s jaw.

“I’d also bet money you’re the youngest in your family. Am I right?” Trick asked. He

watched Nathan’s profile, but he kept a stony silence. “I have a brother. He’s about your age.

Twenty seven. He works at a desk nine-to-five.”

Trick settled back against the seat. If Nathan wasn’t going to contribute, then this would

just have to be a one way conversation.

“He’s blond like me.” Trick ran a hand over his peppery bristled head.

Nathan snorted. Trick grinned with the evidence that Nathan was listening despite his

efforts to the contrary. Sinking lower into a slouch, he settled in for as long a drive as it would

take to get there. Or as long a drive as it would take before someone needed a break.

“Yeah, he’s got a head full of hair, and he’s big like me. The ladies love him, but he’s not

interested. That’s the kind of news that just about killed my mom,” Trick continued.

The more he told Nathan, the more the kid would begin to connect with him. Trick

needed his trust when it came time to prove who he really was. And telling Nathan about himself

seemed the most natural thing in the world to do.

“So,” Trick said through a yawn. “Unless science comes up with a few advancements,

Mom won’t be getting any grandkids.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Nathan shift in his seat. He rolled up his window too,

trapping the road sounds out and the snoring in.

“You’d like him. Well, maybe not. He’s a bit like me, but he’d sure like you. He likes

men like you—suited and lean. Pretty. No one could ever accuse the Montgomery boys of being

pretty.” Trick laughed. He rolled his head to the side, looking at Nathan with what he hoped was

a friendly expression.

“What about you?” Trick asked again. “What’s your family like?”

There was a lift across Nathan’s shoulders, as though he was about to relent and start

talking. A sharp snort from the back seat jarred them both, and Nathan reclaimed his distance.

“Hey,” Trick said, reaching across the distance to nudge Nathan’s knee. “I’m in your

custody, but that doesn’t mean we can’t talk.”

“It means exactly that.”

Chapter Four

He stroked the back of his fingers up the side of Nathan’s thigh. Nathan tensed as every

nerve ending focused on the progression of his touch. More out of alarm to make it stop than

from conscious thought, he swatted a hand downward and grabbed the man’s beefy wrist.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Nathan looked into the rearview mirror. Agent diNossi

slept on, but the last thing he wanted was for him to wake up to find their suspect fondling him

as he drove. He’d never get promoted.

“Not fucking. Touching,” Trick corrected.

“Quit it. I can use diNossi’s cuffs if necessary.”

“Have you ever been cuffed and fucked out of your mind, Agent Rohn?”

God. Nathan’s cock began to fill, and a riot of butterflies set off in his middle. The mental

picture of being stripped down and cuffed helplessly while Trick fucked him into

unconsciousness made his brain spin wildly. His thighs tingled, and he knew he was in trouble.

“I think you’d like that,” Trick said as though the image amused him.

Nathan knew from training that a suspect would say anything he needed in order to throw

an agent off his concentration. Trick already knew Nathan was gay and interested because of

what had happened in the bar. Now Trick was using it to his advantage by dropping hints and

suggestions that they could revisit that night.

Nathan pushed Trick’s hand away from him. “Keep your hands on that side of the car.”

“Hand. I only have one available at the moment. Your gun isn’t within my reach. Well,”

he added chuckling. “Not that gun.”

“Hands over there. I mean it.”

“You aren’t afraid of me, are you?” Trick pressed. “I’m good with my hands. Really

good. Especially with my right hand, but that one’s out of commission at the moment.” He

rattled the cuff attached to the door handle.

Nathan refocused his attention on the road. The man next to him was far too distracting

for his own good. Far too distracting for anyone’s good.

An odd noise from Trick’s side of the car drew Nathan’s attention. The rasp of a zipper?

He took a quick glance. Then another. Shit.

He took a side road detour, keeping their vehicle off major arteries and freeways in case

the mob was actually following them. It would take them longer, and there’d still have to be an

overnight in the hotel, but having a second agent made Nathan feel pretty confident that he’d

make the drop at Quantico without a problem.

Nathan’s nerves were shot. He tightened his grip on the wheel, kept his face straight

ahead though the urge to look clawed at him. “What are you doing?”

“Getting started without you.”

The agent in the back snuffled and resumed his death rattle. A look in the rearview told

Nathan that diNossi wasn’t anywhere near close to waking up. This new diversionary tactic of

Trick’s was all Nathan’s to deal with.

Shit.

“I’m nowhere in that equation,” Nathan bit out.

“I remember every second of that night. Of course you’re in this equation. Who do you

think I’ll be imagining?”

Nathan’s breath caught at the promise in those words. Was he messing with him because

he knew Nathan wanted him, or because he wanted to catch Nathan unprepared and make a

break for it? He mentally shook himself. It didn’t fucking matter. The man was his suspect, not a

front-seat fling.

He needed to get a grip. Fuck no! He shivered as the image of all kinds of grip-getting

flooded his brain. Not a grip, he corrected to himself. Definitely not a grip. There would be no

gripping where Trick’s penis was concerned. Not a thought about it and certainly no actual

gripping to be had.

He ground his teeth as he lectured himself.

Trick moved in the seat next to him. Nathan’s head turned, clearly not following his own

explicit directions to not see what the suspect was up to.

Trick’s gaze held his. The rumble strips on the side of the road had Nathan jerking his

attention to his driving.

Trick chuckled thickly. “You watch the road Agent Rohn. I’ll watch your crotch.”

Nathan’s balls tingled pleasantly. Already his dick pressed the inside of his slacks

uncomfortably. If Trick was watching it, he’d have noticed the very unprofessional tenting of the

fabric.

“You could pull it out for me,” Trick suggested. “Then I can jack off with a specific

fantasy in mind.”

Nathan bit the inside of his cheek. His upper arms and forearms started to ache with

tension from how tightly he held the steering wheel.

“Or don’t. Either way, I’m thinking about that cock while I stroke mine. Remembering

how it felt in my hand, even if it was too dark to see in the hallway.” A long shuddering breath

from the right side of the car had Nathan on edge. “I bet a man as pretty as you has a pretty

prick.”

“Oh, God,” Nathan mumbled in a near panic.

He couldn’t resist darting a look to the corner of his eye. Trick’s pants were open and

pulled down with his underpants, beneath his balls. The big hairy orbs rested on the white cotton

fabric and one beefy mitt began a gentle fondle of a gnarly, lolling dick.

The man might as well have been fondling him. He felt it straight to his groin,

remembering every callous of Trick’s palm as though it were wrapped around Nathan’s shaft

again. It was a good thing there was no oncoming traffic. He gave more corner eye attention to

Trick than he did to the road he was driving on.

Trick groaned, and the low decibels erected every last hair follicle on Nathan’s body. The

wheel creaked under his fingers.

Swearing under his breath, he stole several quick looks. Trick’s cock was as weather-

beaten as the rest of him. Ruddy and thick, it lifted angrily upward, moving easily into the

practiced motions of Trick’s hand. Like he said he would, Trick kept his eyes trained on

Nathan’s lap. His expression was hungry and glazed over, already well into whatever fantasy

involving Nathan’s dick he’d thought up. The realization only made Nathan’s cock harder as it

began to throb with neglect.

Trick’s breathing grew labored. “Touch me,” he rasped.

Nathan’s eyes darted back to the road, and he shook his head roughly. His fingers itched

to do what he’d been told, yet he managed to resist.

“What are your hands like?” Trick demanded to know. “Gun calloused, or smooth?”

“Stop what you’re doing,” Nathan pleaded. God, he sounded so pathetic and weak.

“I will when I’m done. When we’re both done.”

“What? No! There’s nothing to finish here. Nothing. No hands. No touching.” Nathan

squirmed in his seat wishing he didn’t feel the man’s heavy gaze boring into his lap.

“That’s not what I see,” Trick teased. “You’re hard. And you’re wearing boxers. Your

cock escaped them and is pressing your head against your pants.”

“Stop looking!”

“You’re cut. Circumcised. Even if I didn’t already know that, I can see the rim of your

cockhead, Nathan. There’s a wet spot forming too. You can lie, but I know you like it.”

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up.” Nathan swerved slightly, distracted enough to have drifted

out of his lane. His heart raced. One yell at the sleeping agent would rouse him. Yet no matter

how he insisted he didn’t want Trick to touch himself, Nathan couldn’t make himself wake up

diNossi.

A breathy laugh escaped Trick’s lips, followed by another long groan. From the corner of

his eyes, he saw Trick’s hips lift to his fist rhythmically.

“Oh, God,” Trick gasped. “This one’s for you, Agent Rohn.”

The half-swallowed guttural shudder greeted the flash of white in Nathan’s peripheral.

The man’s chest rose and fell rapidly and his hand came to a stop.

“I bet you’re more amazing in bed than against a wall,” Trick murmured.

“You make a lot of bets,” Nathan replied lamely. He needed another subject. Any subject.

Fast. His balls were tight and uncomfortable. “I had a pet rabbit when I was nine.” Okay, that

would work.

“What?” Trick asked, confusion evident in his voice.

“Hopper. His name was Hopper. Until he got pregnant and then we realized he was a

she.”

Trick started laughing. The man was far too jovial for his situation, Nathan decided.

“I make you nervous.” Trick’s voice lowered and he leaned toward the center. “Maybe I

make you horny.”

“Hopper had five bunnies. We didn’t change her name even though we knew she was a

girl rabbit. We figured Hopper sounded just as much like a girl name as a boy name.”

“You’re babbling.”

“So my brothers and I had to give two of the bunnies to the neighbor girls, and we each

got one of our own.”

“It’s cute,” Trick told him. He hadn’t tucked himself away yet, but he’d found tissues in

the center console to clean himself.

“And then,” Nathan said, determined to keep talking. A hand fumbled with his fly.

Nathan jerked the wheel, hit the rumble strips and corrected.

“And then?”

He should make Trick stop. He should say something about the fact that his zipper had

just been lowered and his button clasp released. Somehow talking seemed like the best course of

action.

“I knew it was pretty,” Trick murmured appreciatively when Nathan’s cock leaped out on

its own.

Nathan glanced down. Seeing his freed penis rising from his open zipper had a surreal

quality to it. His foot left the accelerator as Trick’s large thick-fingered and scarred hand

wrapped blessedly around Nathan’s shaft.

“The bunnies—” Nathan’s story drifted off pointlessly.

“Weren’t nearly as smooth and warm as your dick,” Trick finished for him. “Like a

butter-leather driveshaft. Hot, hard and in gear. You might want to watch the road.”

He didn’t know where to look. The road would be the smart choice, but the contrast of

battered hand on his pale shaft and the alternate choice of Trick’s flaccid horse-cock still

exposed, addled his brain.

“Bet they didn’t teach you about this dilemma in FBI summer camp,” Trick mused.

Nathan’s foot was completely off the accelerator now and the car crept along at five

miles per hour. Still, the challenge of staying on the two lane road without weaving proved to be

a too much for his driving skills.

Trick’s thumb coasted over Nathan’s wet tip. He spread the moisture over the entire

crown, then rubbed the tip of his thumb at the sweet spot just underneath Nathan’s shaft at the

base of the flared rim.

“Wish I had both hands free to do this right,” Trick told him. “I’m not askin’, I’m just

telling you that I’d like to get both my hands on your package.”

His hand swept down the length, into Nathan’s pants and cupped his balls for a gentle

massage. In the back of his mind, Nathan became aware that if the man wanted to do some

damage to demand his freedom, Nathan had just given him the opportunity. But then logic

wasn’t Nathan’s primary operating procedure at the moment. If it had ever been, where Trick

was concerned.

“I’d open your thighs and lick your hole,” Trick said huskily. “I’d play with your nipples,

tonguing them until you begged me to bite.”

Nathan’s foot found the break as he eased to the side of the road. He’d lost this battle. It

was mortifying and would cost him his job if diNossi woke up. It should cost him his job. He

was a moron. A blissfully erect moron who currently couldn’t see passed his own pleasure and

kind of liked the excitement added by the dangerous possibility of getting caught. He didn’t

deserve the goddamned badge. And right now, he didn’t care.

“You’re close. Your balls are already drawn up tight. It won’t take much.”

Trick took hold of Nathan’s cock again, sliding upward to the tip and giving it a twist.

Nathan tried to bite back his moan unsuccessfully. His head fell back, but he couldn’t resist

looking at Trick’s penis. With the man up on one hip to reach him better, it draped over his upper

thigh, hairy balls and all. He wanted to see the rest of him. He wanted to see Trick’s chest, his

naked legs. But an eyeful of languid cock wasn’t discouraging either.

“I’d cuff you to the bed, then I’d kiss you. I’d own those pouty lips and tug them between

my teeth until they turned puffy and pink. I’d taste you, Nathan. Inside your mouth, your flat

little nipples, your thighs, and I’d swallow your cock. You’d have to let me. You’d be naked and

helpless to stop me from having every part of you.”

It was coming. The rise of pleasure lifted with each tidal pump of Trick’s fist on Nathan’s

cock. Trick taken to rolling the cockhead over Nathan’s tip. Nathan looked down to watch,

keeping his hands on the wheel as though by doing so, he wasn’t actively participating.

The head disappeared and reappeared between Trick’s thumb and fingers. The web of

flesh joining them rolled and worked the ridge. Pearly drops squeezed from the hole at the top,

and Nathan stared at them, lost to the coaxing of Trick’s slightly painful grip bringing him off.

It hit him sharply. The swell shook him and he bit down on his lip as orgasm stole his

breath and ripped cum from his cock. It spurted over Trick’s hand and onto the steering wheel.

He arched into it, letting it take over. Letting Trick take him over until he’d been emptied.

When he finally opened his eyes again, he saw Trick lift his hand and swipe his tongue

along one cum-wet finger. His eyes held Nathan’s. The sinking sensation to the pit of his

stomach was unnecessary. He’d just made a huge mistake. Trick had his number. No mistaking

it. He’d just been seduced by the roughest mob informant he’d ever laid eyes on. Worse, he

wanted to let the man do everything he said he wanted to.

Pathetic didn’t begin to describe him. He was fucked.

DiNossi snortled in the back seat. Nathan hurriedly put himself away under the amused

gaze of his suspect. Trick wasn’t quite as speedy, taking his time to right his clothing as Nathan

pulled back onto the road.

“At least tell me you’ll call me in the morning,” Trick teased.

Nathan didn’t answer. There wasn’t an excuse for what he’d just allowed to happen. The

car hit the rumble strips as Nathan took the lane out. DiNossi sat up. The silence felt strangely

oppressive and he glanced into the rearview mirror. DiNossi stared back at him unflinchingly.

Dear God. He knew.

Chapter Five

Trick hummed as diNossi ushered him into the motel room. He stood outside the

bathroom door while Trick took care of business and washed his hands, and he escorted him in

equal silence to the bed when he cuffed Trick to the headboard.

There were volumes of information in that silence. DiNossi knew what had happened in

the car. He’d been snoring, but he knew. Nathan looked nervous as hell and pale.

“Can we at least change which hand is cuffed. My wrist is chafing,” Trick told diNossi.

“That’s not all you’ve chafed is it?” diNossi muttered under his breath.

Trick’s gaze followed Nathan’s back as he disappeared from the room on the premise that

he’d be back with food.

“You could get that kid fired,” diNossi commented.

“So could you,” Trick said, just as conversationally.

DiNossi smiled knowingly. “He’s going to be pissed when he finds out who you are.”

“Who I am doesn’t affect the course of his carrier.”

“It could. Especially after what you pulled in the car. Or should I say who you pulled in

the car.”

Trick sat against the headboard. “You could uncuff me while he’s gone.”

“And risk the chance that he’d come back and see you freed? The jig would be up.”

“I like him. He’s a decent kid,” Trick countered. “I won’t say anything to anyone about

that. Neither will you.”

“Are you ordering me, Detective Montgomery?”

“Now what would be the point in that? I have no authority over you. But off the record,

you won’t rat him out.”

DiNossi studied him for several moments. “His mistake occurred on company time with

someone he believes is a suspect on a federal mob case. How do we know he wouldn’t have been

equally unprofessional on an actual case? We don’t,” diNossi answered for him. “He’s a liability

as an agent. I’m here to report my findings and offer a recommendation for his promotion. Right

now, I can’t recommend him.”

“I met him a week before the case at a bar. We had a thing,” Trick explained, hoping the

agent understood. “He’s a kid with a career ahead of him. I worked every angle I could to get

that man to trip up, in the car. That was my job. To trip him up.”

“You succeeded,” diNossi noted.

“Wasn’t easy.”

“He looked easy.”

“He wasn’t,” Trick said again.

“You enjoyed it a little too much, wouldn’t you say?”

Trick grinned. “He’s exactly my type. Of course I enjoyed it. After this thing is over, I

plan on enjoying him a lot more. Just like I did before you two fake-arrested me.”

“Good luck with that. You’re a complete lie for him.”

“Not completely. It’s not like I was ordered to jack him off or jack off for him. I was

ordered to distract him from his duty. The way I see it, I’m still on the road to Quantico.

Therefore, I haven’t distracted him irreparably. He’s still doing his job and that should count for

something.”

“I suppose you’ll also rationalize that you do have information to give to the Feds about

the mob when you get there, so that’s not actual lying either.”

“Now you’re up to speed,” Trick agreed.

“Does this mean you’re going to leave him alone now?”

Trick chuckled. “Not sure I can, diNossi. Not sure I can.”

“At least until after we have you delivered?”

“And how would that work? I get dropped off and he leaves. I can hardly see how far the

chemistry would take us. I wouldn’t be performing my role either.”

“You role isn’t to seduce him.”

“No,” Trick agreed. “But it is to distract him. Can I help it if the best way I’ve found to

do that is to get into the kid’s pants?”

“Ethics, man.”

“I thought we agreed that I don’t have any.”

“As evidenced by this afternoon.”

Trick lifted a shoulder. “Then as fair warning, wear earplugs tonight. I want to make

Agent Rohn forget his name and ease the perpetual hard-on he’s given me in the process.”

“Why couldn’t you have been assigned to a woman?” diNossi muttered. “I should report

both of you for this. It would never be acceptable.”

“You won’t. I know too much about your walk on the wild side.”

“You see this?” diNossi asked gesturing between them. “This is why Feds and cops don’t

get along.”

“Hey, you suits asked for my help. In fact, you broke the cover I cultivated for over three

years to help you with your investigation of Jerome Linder and his questionable businesses. The

fact that I’m enjoying this deviation from my long-term plan should be compensation.”

“You’re a dick. Are you actually saying that Agent Rohn’s cock is payment for a change

of plans?”

“If that’s what you need to hear to let it go, then yeah I’ll say it.”

DiNossi snorted. “But the truth would be?”

Trick relaxed a little, smiled when he thought of the look of ecstasy on Nathan’s face that

afternoon. “I like him. I’d like him if he weren’t taking me to Quantico, and if I weren’t asked to

distract him to test his dedication to getting his job done. I’d still want to see just how far a little

heat and chemistry could take us. Unfortunately for you, it’s happening on the job because that’s

the only way I have access to him.”

“You don’t know anything about him.”

“Sure, I do. I got the bullet point verbal file on him before I was drafted to this little side

trip. I know his entire FBI career details and a cursory review of his life history pertinent to

finding his weak spots.” Trick’s grin widened. “And the bunnies. I know he had bunnies when he

was nine.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me. I now have a permanent mental picture of you petting his

bunny.”

“Wear earplugs tonight. Or headphones. Whatever it takes, you have to tune out. I want

that man under me, and it’s going to happen.”

DiNossi’s cheeks reddened. The seasoned FBI agent actually blushed. Trick laughed

loudly. God, he couldn’t wait to get his hands on Agent Rohn.

“Put the key to the cuffs within my reach. I’m going to need them,” he told diNossi as he

began to formulate a plan.

* * * *

It was weirdly quiet when Nathan entered the motel room. Peaceful. It struck him as odd

that there’d be any ease to the atmosphere between the two men. After all, diNossi seemed

absolutely aware that Trick had jacked Nathan off on the side of the road. And that Nathan had

let him.

God, how humiliating.

What made it worse was knowing he’d have to find a time to talk to diNossi about it.

Find out where his mind was when it came to reporting what he knew to Nathan’s superiors.

He handed out hamburgers and fries. Trick’s burger looked like a child’s snack in those

huge hands of his. Just looking at those rough fingers made Nathan’s cock harden again. He took

a seat at the in-room table. He dragged his gaze away to pay attention to his own food, but the

raspy promises of what Trick would do to him seemed to linger in his mind.

It made swallowing difficult. Especially when he sensed Trick watching him eat.

“We should be at Quantico in another five hundred miles or so,” Nathan said to fill the

silence. “We should have kept driving.”

“My ass was sore,” diNossi answered succinctly. “They know when we’ll be there.

We’ve called it in.”

“Why didn’t they send another chopper?” Nathan asked.

DiNossi shrugged. “Budget cuts?”

“Seems strange. Seems equally strange that the chopper would be expected to fly that

distance,” Nathan added.

“That’s where you’re wrong. The plan was to airlift you out to a waiting plane. What

happened is you got the pilot shot. Who was supposed to fly you to the next point, get into a

plane and fly you to Virginia?”

“Oh.”

“Good job,” diNossi said condescendingly.

“Wasn’t the kid’s fault. He wasn’t aiming the gun,” Trick jumped in.

Nathan glared at him. He didn’t need a suspect standing up for him in front of a more

experienced agent. “It was my fault. There was too much commotion getting you outside and to

the car. I should have been faster.”

Trick cocked an eyebrow at him. “Okay, then. It’s your fault.” Humor twinkled in the

dark blue depths.

DiNossi sighed, wadded up his wrappers and threw them at the pint-sized garbage can by

the television set. He missed. Sprawling onto his back on the second bed, he tucked his hands

behind his head. “You take first watch.”

“What? You slept in the backseat all day. You take first watch,” Nathan argued.

“Was I? Was I asleep, Agent Bunny-boy?”

Nathan’s cheeks heated.

“I’ll take the first watch,” diNossi agreed, seemingly satisfied with Nathan’s

embarrassment.

“We’re leaving at oh-six-hundred,” Nathan grumbled. “You’re driving.”

“Nice use of military time, Agent Rohn,” Trick replied cheerfully.

“Fuck you.”

“Sure, but you’ll have to help me with these pants. I have only one hand free,” Trick

answered.

“I don’t know, Montgomery. You had one hand proverbially tied behind your back last

time, and you seemed to function just fine. I say we allow the handicap to stand or that poor boy

won’t know what hit him,” diNossi mused. Trick chuckled. His eyes danced. Nathan forced

himself to look away. Great, now they were both laughing at him. His face burned with the

humiliation. He couldn’t even count on his FBI counterpart to shut the man up. This day couldn’t

get any worse.

“I’m going to keep watch from the car out front. You two keep your hands to

yourselves.” DiNossi clicked the remote to a news channel and turned the volume down low. “In

case you boys get loud, I want to keep my ears virginal.”

“I swear that man needs to get laid,” Trick muttered.

“Don’t talk. There’s nothing I want to hear from you,” Nathan snapped.

“Not even an apology?”

Nathan narrowed his eyes on him. He didn’t trust that an apology was the only thing

Trick wanted to offer. At least, his body really hoped it wasn’t, and for that, he’d forever be

grateful that no one could read his mind.

“Nothing,” Nathan insisted.

Trick kicked off his shoes and let them fall to the floor off the bed he was attached to.

DiNossi had cuffed his other wrist, and Nathan detected the raw ring around his right from the

hours in the car. It had to hurt, but Trick didn’t seem perturbed. He practically lounged on the

bed like he was at a day spa.

Trick draped his free hand across his chest. Two pillows propped up his head and he

crossed his ankles. He kept his eyes on Nathan, unerringly. When he finally smiled, Nathan felt it

like a kick to the chest.

The man might not be conventionally attractive, but he was sexy as hell. And he knew it.

Charisma rolled off him in waves making promises his eyes said he’d keep.

“You know I want you.”

His voice was dark and low. It gave Nathan an internal shiver that had everything do with

prey recognizing its predator.

“I know you want me, too,” Trick added. “Even diNossi knows it. You aren’t hiding

anything by staying away from me.”

“But I am cultivating a little necessary self-respect,” Nathan said.

“Self-respect is over rated.”

“Not when it’s all I have left.”

“Is it? Judging from my conversation with diNossi while you were gone, he’s not going

to say anything. You might take some ribbing from him, but that’s about it.”

Nathan wasn’t sure he should believe him, though he sounded sincere. Still, he was a

suspect in custody. He’d say anything. Do anything. That had not only been drilled into his mind

at the academy, but proven to him that afternoon.

A new thought occurred to him. One that made his blood turn icy. “Meeting you in the

bar wasn’t a coincidence, was it?”

Trick seemed to think about his answer, which was all the answer Nathan needed.

“You knew? How did you know?”

“I have my sources,” Trick said.

“If your sources told you who I was well enough for you to seek me out, to fuck me up

against a wall,” Nathan spat the words angrily. “Then why were you exactly where you needed

to be for me to arrest you? What was the thinking in that plan?”

“I thought it would be taken care of.”

“It? Me? You thought I’d be taken care of? Like a hit?” Nathan got up, pacing the floor

of the motel room.

“No, I meant I thought the issue of arrest would resolve itself.” Trick looked a little guilty

if the aversion of his eyes meant anything.

“That’s why you mentioned the possibility of an FBI mole earlier, isn’t it?” Nathan said,

with sudden understanding.

Trick shrugged. For a guy who’d had no problems chatting it up all day, the shrug was an

obvious tell.

“You have a guy, and you expected him to take care of your arrest. Make it go away.

That’s what it is,” Nathan proclaimed. “And fucking me in a bar was what, exactly? A

souvenir?”

“Fun,” Trick answered finally meeting his eyes. “It was fun. You are hot, and I wanted

you. I didn’t know you were the guy who’d come to arrest me. I knew there was a cluster-fuck of

Feds at your table in the bar and thought I could get some information out of you.”

“You never asked me for information,” Nathan mused, thinking back.

“Because you told me your name afterward, and that’s all I wanted: the identity of my

arresting agent.”

“An info-fuck. That’s what that night was,” Nathan decided, pissed with himself.

“I just got through telling you that I thought you were hot. That should mean something.”

“Not really. It just means my ass appealed to you, and you thought you’d get one up on

the Feds before you were caught.”

Trick sighed. “I didn’t have to fuck you. I could have intimidated the hell out of you

instead. That would have been a smarter option. Consider it a compliment that you tempted me

out of character. It’s not like I tell the guys I’m gay.”

“I don’t suppose they’d take that well,” Nathan considered. A mobster with a thing for

dudes? It didn’t fit the stereotype.

“No, they wouldn’t,” Trick agreed. “You were looking mighty fine that night, Agent

Rohn. Then I heard your name and realized I’d just gotten a little too cozy with the guy I was

trying to identify.”

Nathan smirked. It occurred to him that things probably didn’t take Trick Montgomery by

surprise very often.

“C’m’ere.”

“I’m good where I am,” Nathan said, planting himself on the other bed.

“You don’t believe me?”

“It wouldn’t matter if I believed you about that. I’m still not coming over there.”

“Suit yourself,” Trick told him with a shrug.

Nathan pretended to watch the news. The possibility of a mole inside the organization

was definitely something he’d be putting in his report. They watched the national news in

silence, then local news came on.

“So you have two brothers? Since you each got a bunny and gave two away, and you

didn’t mention sisters, you must be one of three kids. I still think you’re the youngest,” Trick

began.

The sudden conversation took Nathan off his guard. “What kind of name is Trick

Montgomery?” Nathan snapped, wanting the subject off himself.

“Patrick. They guys called me Trick because I always have something up my sleeve.”

Nathan kept watching the news. He should flip channels, see what else was on. The last

thing he wanted to do was listen to someone talk about the latest robbery on the local news. Then

again, maybe it would keep him in the mindset he needed to do his job.

“I was thinking about your mouth, Agent Rohn. Do you know what I was thinking about

it?”

Oh hell, he’d been thinking about Nathan’s mouth? May he never know that Nathan had

wondered about Trick’s.

“It looks pouty, like a woman’s. Funny thing though, I have no interest in kissing a

woman. You, on the other hand, I’d enjoy kissing. Are you a flicker, Agent Rohn?”

A what? Not that he’d ask the question out loud, or show any sign that he’d been

listening.

“A flicker is someone who flicks their tongue in an open mouth kiss. Are you a flicker, a

rubber or a sucker?”

Yes, yes, yes and some other stuff. Fuck. Now he was thinking about kissing the big oaf.

Damn him.

“How about moaning? Do you moan when someone kisses you just right?”

He’d never thought about it.

“Just a guess, but I think it must’ve been a long time since you were last kissed properly.

It’s a shame. Your lips deserve to be kissed properly.”

Nathan felt tight inside and out. Trick’s voice had been dropping lower and lower,

competing with the chipper background noise from the television set. Nathan strained to hear

him, to catch every word.

“I’m chained to a bed. You could come over here, and I’d kiss you like you need to be

kissed and you’d never have to wonder if I’d escape or if the guy outside cared. He didn’t care

about me jacking you off. He’s not going to care about a little kiss.”

The man was relentless! Unfortunately, he also knew just what to say to get Nathan

thinking about the possibilities. He should just hang up his badge now. Call in for backup and

tell his sector lead that he’d made a mistake and would rather flip burgers the rest of his life.

Nathan heard the rustling of Trick moving around on the bed. In his more immediate

vision, he saw the man toe off his socks. His legs drew up and the next thing Nathan was aware,

a pair of faded blue jeans hit the floor.

“You don’t mind if I get comfortable do you?” Trick asked. “Feel free to take off a few

layers yourself.”

“I already did. My coat’s hanging on a hook with my tie.” He hadn’t meant to answer. He

hoped the sarcasm in his voice put Trick off. It didn’t seem to work that way.

“Do you sleep fully dressed, Agent Rohn?”

Okay, that one he’d refrain from answering. There was no way to tell a man who was

coming on to you that you preferred to sleep in the raw without it sounding like an invitation.

Maybe he should put his coat and tie back on.

They fell into silence. Finally. The news ended and a late night comedy show came on

with all its canned laughter.

Trick started coughing. Just a little at first, then more forcefully. “Water?” he asked

through the scratchy sound of his request.

Nathan went to the sink and filled up a plastic cup. He returned with it, waiting while

Trick wiped tears from the corners of his eyes. He took the cup and took several longs gulps

before handing it back. Nathan put it on the table between the beds, closest to where Trick was

cuffed.

The bed creaked and suddenly large meaty hands wrapped around his waist and

awkwardly tumbled him to the mattress. Trick dragged him to the head of the bed and pinned

him there.

“What the fuck?”

Trick slammed a hand over his mouth, breaking off his cry for help. That’s when Nathan

realized that both of Trick’s hands were free.

Chapter Six

Nathan’s eyes widened above Trick’s hand. Grinning at the smaller man, he said, “I

always have something up my sleeve, Nathan. I told you that. Remember when you have

someone in custody, you take your clues where you can, recognize them and make sure you’re

ready for their next move.”

Trick straddled Nathan’s tossing body until the rest of him was better pinned down.

“You’re new at this suspect delivery thing, so we’ll call that tip a freebie.” He winked at

the kid, whose labored breathing huffed through his flared nostrils.

Trick kept a hand over the agent’s mouth as he quickly unbuttoned the starched white

shirt. He unpinned one arm at a time to pull the shirt off the agent’s body. For a slim guy, his FBI

button-down shirt hid a lot of lean, compact muscle.

He gripped one arm, then the other and clapped the cuffs into place around the headboard

post. It put their bodies at an angle across the bed, but Trick decided he could work with that.

“I also remember telling you that there were things I wanted to do to you. Here’s the

catch. I don’t do guys who don’t want to do me. You’re cuffed. If diNossi walks in, that’s what

he’s going to see. You’re in the clear for responsibility and I, well, I’m still here with you.”

Nathan mumbled behind Trick’s hand. Trick moved it, but kept ready to slam it back into

place. “It won’t be consensual.”

“Then it won’t happen. I’ll tell you what will happen though.”

Curiosity burned up at him behind the fire of anger.

“I’m going to finally find out that burning question I had about how kissing you feels,”

he answered for Nathan.

“I’ll bite your tongue off, asshole,” Nathan swore.

“I might like that.”

Trick bent over him, leaning down until their noses touched and he knew Nathan could

either look him in the eye, or close those big brown beauties. A touch of pride lit Trick’s chest

when Nathan glared at him in silent belligerence.

He dragged his hand off Nathan’s mouth, half expecting the agent to yell, head slam him

or bite like he’d said he might. Since he didn’t, Trick could only assume that Nathan needed to

be kissed even more than Nathan had realized.

He brushed his mouth across Nathan’s, teasing him with the slightest touch, testing him

to see how he’d react when given the opportunity to attack. They stared each other down. The

more Trick swept his relaxed lips across Nathan’s, the more panicked the brown eyes got.

Trick ran his hands down Nathan’s arms with the barest touch, meant to tickle the

sensitive skin inside his arms. Nathan gasped. It was small, but Trick heard it all the same. His

mouth settled on Nathan’s, marrying their warm, moist lips as though they had all the time they

needed to get this right.

Nathan seemed to resist him at first, but the more Trick softly plucked at them, the more

Nathan’s mouth relaxed. His eyelids fluttered closed, leaving the slightest slit behind which he

continued to watch. That stubborn refusal to give over completely brought a hitch to Trick’s

heartbeat. Yeah, he liked this kid’s attitude.

Finally, Nathan kissed him back. It was tentative, an almost negligible capture of Trick’s

lips. And that’s when Trick went in for the kill. His mouth parted and he tested the seam of

Nathan’s lips with the tip of his tongue, sighing his pleasure when Nathan let him enter.

He was salty from the fries, and sweetly cola flavored. Trick settled in, tasting him,

gently pushing Nathan’s limits until the other man not only stopped resisting him but openly

returned his kiss in a way that had Trick’s head spinning.

He’d meant to tempt Nathan, but the tables had flipped on him. Nathan, cuffed and

pinned, seduced him with nothing more than his honest response to the way Trick made him feel.

It was humbling and wildly erotic. He wondered vaguely if Nathan had any idea how powerful

his submission was.

All that man tenderly tempting him and only taking what Nathan allowed, made for a

powerful aphrodisiac, Nathan realized too late. His body felt like melting jelly. He didn’t want it

to stop.

It doesn’t have to, his brain whispered.

Trick’s hand trailed over Nathan’s chest, pausing to caress his nipples. His hands came

up again to touch Nathan’s face. He tugged Nathan’s chin down and swept deeply inside his

mouth. Nathan responded by sucking Trick’s tongue until the man shuddered and moaned.

When Trick finally pulled away, he looked as dazed as Nathan felt. His blue eyes had a

dreamy quality that managed to soften his features into handsomeness. If this was how Trick

looked when he kissed, he needed never to stop kissing. The combination of tenderness and need

directed at him, made Nathan shake with the urgency to rip the other man’s clothes off and

devour him.

He did want Trick. It was stupid. It was career suicide. It didn’t make sense. There were

one-night stands, and then there was this—the hint that there was more depth, more to offer than

a mutual banging session. Nothing as romantic as love at first sight. Yet something indefinable.

“I changed my mind,” Nathan breathed.

“About?”

“Sex,” Nathan admitted strangely comfortable saying it. He should have feared it was a

set up, but from the look on Trick’s face, he wanted to just as badly. “I want it. With you. Now.”

“Are you sure?”

“A mobster with a conscience. Who knew?” Nathan joked nervously.

“A warm-blooded FBI agent. Just as rare.”

“I’m sure,” Nathan said, watching with interest as Trick smiled.

“You trust me?”

“Not at all. You’re still in FBI custody.”

Trick nodded pointedly to the cuffs that kept Nathan in place.

“Don’t be fooled by a little metal.”

Trick chuckled warmly. He sat up and pulled his t-shirt off, throwing it to the floor.

“At the risk of incurring another joke about my age, there’s a condom in my wallet.”

Trick did laugh then.

Nathan smiled widely. At least they were on the same page. “Sex doesn’t change

anything though. I’m still bringing you in.”

“Sure, but first, I’m going to bring you off. You don’t mind, do you?” Trick asked

rhetorically.

Trick pushed a hand underneath Nathan’s ass and retrieved the wallet. He took out the

condom and tossed the wallet onto the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

“Only one,” Trick noted. “I guess I need to get creative.” He wiggled his brows and came

down for another long, lingering kiss.

Nathan would be sorry to see those end. The man knew what he was doing. Day-end

stubble scraped Nathan’s cheek and part of his upper lip. He smiled when he remembered

wondering if he’d feel that instead of Trick’s upper lip. The softness remained though. Trick

didn’t suffer for having a thin lip and hard edged lower one. If anything, the effect was dizzying

to Nathan’s senses. Soft, hard, scratchy and smooth kept him interested and eager for more.

“Relax,” Trick murmured against his mouth. “We’re under FBI protection with our own

personal guard out there and everything.”

“Who knows what we’re doing.”

“Who suspects what we’re doing. If he didn’t see it happen, he can’t report on it.” Trick

said.

“He saw what happened in the car,” Nathan reminded him.

“Okay, you’ve got me there. So let’s say your ass is already in the cooker. That just

means you can rest in the knowledge that you might as well make the most of it and turn the heat

to high.”

Trick undid Nathan’s pants and tugged them down.

“My very own FBI agent, stripped and ready for whatever I give him,” Trick whispered.

“Why is he out there when he suspects this is happening?” Nathan asked suddenly.

“Who cares?”

“I do. Why isn’t he slapping you in cuffs and insisting that I stay away?”

Trick pulled Nathan’s pants all the way off then removed his own shirt. Trick was solid

muscle. Between the power in his body and the impressive cock, Nathan had no doubt that he’d

be sore for days afterward.

“He’s not unsympathetic,” Trick told him. “That’s all I’m going to say.”

“Wait, so he does know what’s happening in here?”

Trick lifted an eyebrow. “You mean what isn’t happening because you’re worried he’ll

walk in, don’t you?”

Nathan tugged on the restraints. “Something’s off.”

Trick dragged the side of his finger up the length of Nathan’s cock. Nathan felt it like a

stroke to every nerve ending. “Not yet, it isn’t. We’ll get you off soon enough.”

“He should be in here demanding you be put back into cuffs.”

“You’re looking a gift horse in the mouth, Agent Rohn. How do you know diNossi hasn’t

had his own share of federal fun in years past?”

“Because we take our jobs seriously.”

“I’m serious about taking my job seriously, too. Right now, that’s to have you shoot your

load down my throat.”

Nathan stilled, temporarily enraptured by the thought of getting sucked off by the gruff

suspect. Every ragged inch of the beefcake leaning over him was set to seduce him, and Nathan

wasn’t entirely convinced it was a bad idea. A rookie lapse of judgment could explain why he

still hadn’t answered Trick’s taunt. Maybe that would be the answer he gave the bosses when his

report was filed tomorrow.

Sounded plausible.

Who was he kidding? It wasn’t even remotely plausible. Nathan opened his mouth in a

valiant effort to protest, but all he managed was a long groan as Trick pulled off Nathan’s

underwear and began sensuously thumbing Nathan’s balls. All of his logic, every thought about

protesting, every iota that his current actions could affect his long-term promotion goals were

held in the palm of Trick’s roughened hand.

“You were going to say?” Trick asked.

Nathan should care more. He should’ve stopped him. His cock didn’t think for him, and

yet the ticklish trail of lips across his collarbone, the rasp of stubble over his right nipple, seemed

a thousand times more important just then, than any complaint he could muster. If the senior

agent didn’t care, should he?

Nathan dropped his head back to the mattress. “You win.”

“I don’t want to win.”

“Then what do you want?” Nathan asked, feeling the last of his dignity slide away.

“I want you to say you want me.”

“Is this a mind game?” Nathan didn’t think it mattered at this point. Trick’s mouth and

curious hands made the whole situation rosier than it had been minutes ago.

“No game. I just want consent,” Trick murmured, lapping his tongue over Nathan’s

nipple.

“You have it.”

“How much consent? Kissing and touching, sucking you off,” he began, giving Nathan’s

cock a gentle squeeze, “or full penetration?” At the last, he trailed a finger over Nathan’s anus.

Nathan shuddered. “All of it.”

“Like the bar?”

Nathan’s gaze met his. Trick’s expression laid open to him. There was no malice, no

trickery, nothing that hinted at having one up on a federal agent, just heat.

“I liked the bar,” Nathan answered. “I liked this afternoon. Use me, because if history

repeats, I’m going to like that a whole lot more.”

“No,” Trick murmured, dropping a kiss on Nathan’s lips. “I won’t use you. I may not

know how to define what’s going on here, but it’s better than that.”

Nathan looked away. Trick’s words made him think too closely about having more of

him. If he kept Trick in a little box, he could put it away when the case was over. He could

relegate it to something stupid he did while he was on the job. He’d never have to evaluate it,

explain it to himself or treat it as anything more than a fuck he once had with some guy.

“I’m going for full-on lifetime memory making here,” Trick said with a grin. “I’m not

going to let you forget me. You don’t think I know what that look in your eyes means?” He

snorted humorlessly. “You’re wrong. I know. I invented that look, and I just decided I don’t like

it.”

With a sucking opened-mouth kiss, Trick branded Nathan’s neck with a purple mark.

Nathan should’ve stopped him. Instead he arched into it, feeling a sizzle of hot-thrill make its

way through every cell in his body.

“Don’t be a fool,” Nathan rasped. “It’s not like this is going to keep going after you’re

turned in.”

“Maybe not, but you won’t forget tonight.”

Trick pressed kisses down the middle of Nathan’s unhaired chest, nipping the place

where bone gave way to softer flesh. He chuckled when Nathan inhaled sharply. Trick wedged

himself between Nathan’s thighs, settling in as he continued his oral exploration. The weight of

his body pressed intimately against Nathan’s groin, and he couldn’t resist the urge to push his

hips into Trick’s furred, ungiving chest.

“I’ll get there,” Trick assured him, humor lacing his words.

“Not fast enough.”

“Eager? Seconds ago you thought this might be a bad idea,” Trick reminded him.

“I still think it’s a bad idea.”

“I could stop.”

Nathan groaned. “That would suck.”

“Suck? You mean like this?” Trick asked, placing another purple mark on the inside of

Nathan’s hip bone.

“A little to the right and down would be better,” Nathan countered.

Trick sank lower. He nuzzled Nathan’s balls and pressed his lips to the loose skin. “Here

then.”

Baritone vibrations sent shockwaves of pleasure from Nathan’s balls and up his cock. He

bit back another long groan. He twisted against the cuffs, wishing his hands were clasped on

Trick’s scalp instead of empty air and poorly crafted furniture.

His skin rose goose bumps of anticipation and suddenly his balls were swept into a hot,

wet mouth with a flicking tongue.

“Oh God.” Nathan’s voice broke.

Trick pushed a hand up Nathan’s belly to flatten over his heart. Pre-cum leaked from

Nathan’s shaft on every gentle draw and he clenched his ass in an effort to hold onto the flood

gates of orgasm. In every instance of his experience with Trick, Nathan had come hard and fast.

He was little better than a pubescent kid when it came to holding out and taking his time. Trick

did that to him and while it was exhilarating, it was also a bit embarrassing.

Fortunately, he held this time. His eyes watered, his jaw clenched until it ached, his ass

felt like a Charlie horse was developing in one cheek, but he held his load through the exquisite

skill of Trick’s attentive mouth.

Trick let the aching package slip from his lips. “Well, Agent Rohn, it looks like I truly

have you by the balls.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he rasped.

Trick steadied Nathan’s cock. “So pretty.”

“Don’t start offending my dick.”

“You don’t think you have a pretty cock?”

Nathan tried to look down at him. It wasn’t the best angle to see well, but Trick’s

weathered face and hard angled features studiously examining Nathan’s penis from inches away

like it was a jewel, made him crazy with need. His shaft gleamed pale and smooth on the

backdrop of Trick’s scarred scalp and deep lines that would become craggy with further aging.

“See?” Trick murmured. “Pretty.”

“Next to your ugly mug, it’s fucking gorgeous.”

Trick grinned, his midnight eyes flashing with amusement. His gaze held Nathan’s as

Trick dragged the flat of his tongue up the underside of Nathan’s cock. Nathan gasped and

shuddered.

“God, even your tongue is rough.”

When Trick got to the top, he wrapped his lips around it and sucked off the moisture.

“Mm.”

It was the slowest the man had moved to this point. He seemed to be making an effort to

bring Nathan to the very edge of his sanity. The slow trace of Trick’s tongue along the underside

of his cock rim, the way he flickered on the tender triangle of flesh where the rim parted into

lobes, was done with extreme care.

Trick pressed his knuckle into the base between the shaft and Nathan’s balls. He worked

it carefully, massaging hidden nerves. Nerves that Nathan hadn’t paid attention to, not realizing

that he’d been missing out.

“You’re killing me,” Nathan complained, canting his hips to give Trick better access.

Trick winked at him, opened his mouth in a tight oh, and swallowed Nathan’s cock.

“Sonofa—” Nathan yelped. His senses swam, unable to settle on one aspect of what Trick

did to him.

Too much stimulation divided his attention. Like a maelstrom throwing him around in its

grasp, Trick worked Nathan’s cock, knuckled the base, and thumbed his balls. Just when Nathan

thought he had the pattern figured, Trick’s thumb dipped lower, pushing into Nathan’s hole with

short punches and withdrawals.

Nathan’s skin burned hot and cold. His wrists pinched painfully. He didn’t care about any

of it. He was swirling deep into the whirlpool with no hope of escape, and no desire to be saved.

Trick took him deep, swallowing around the shaft as he pushed his thumb into the hole hard and

nudged the hidden prostate.

Nathan howled. Raw senses clawed at his composure like wild animals, leaving him

shredded as the storm tore them free and tossed them into the depths of blissful orgasm. Trick

took it all, swallowing around the spurting eruption with ease, then cleaning him off when

Nathan stopped bucking.

“Nicely done,” Trick murmured.

Nathan stared at him, simply in awe and gasping for breath after the wild ride.

Trick lifted his brows innocently, as though it were a believable look on him. He

thumbed moisture off the corner of his mouth and heaved himself to his knees. His thighs parted

and the biggest dick Nathan had ever seen in real life, rose like a pylon between Trick’s legs.

“Holy fuck,” Nathan rasped feeling more than a little panic.

“It’s gonna hurt.”

“Maybe we should wait until there’s lube nearby.” Nathan’s voice cracked.

“Why do you think I was working your hole?”

“Talent?”

Trick threw back his head and laughed. “Yeah, okay, some of that too. There’s soap. I’ll

make sure I lather up.”

He hopped off the bed and paraded naked to the sink. The condom Trick rolled on didn’t

go all the way down and his dick almost looked strangled by the meager latex covering.

Nathan twisted to get a better look.

The man lathered up his hands and worked it over the condom. Nathan watched in

fascination. Trick continued to work the lather as he returned.

“This isn’t the best thing for latex, but it’ll work for tonight,” Trick told him. As soon as

he got back to the bed, he pushed Nathan’s legs wide, lifted his hips and parted his cheeks.

“If this kills me, tell my mom the will is in my safety deposit box at the bank.” Nathan

licked his lips nervously.

“Relax. You can take it, you’ve done it before. Your hole is nice and ready.”

Nathan squeezed his eyes shut as Trick positioned himself. The blunt tip of his cock

bumped Nathan’s anus.

“Breathe.”

It was Nathan’s only warning before the bigger man pushed in. He took his time, waited

for Nathan to adjust. He felt stretched, full, and dear lord it was likely Trick could give him a

tonsillectomy from this end, but he finally felt Trick’s fingers where Trick held the base of his

own cock and the condom in place.

Nathan’s legs lay across Trick’s thighs. Trick leaned over him in a move that both

positioned his ass at its widest and angled each move to hit the prostate to its best advantage.

When Trick finally leaned on his one available arm and began moving inside him, Nathan

thought he might swallow his own tongue for the sheer speechless thrill.

Trick kissed him. His lips plied him tenderly though his hips picked up the pace until

Nathan could do little more than cling to the headboard, wrap his legs around Trick’s ass and

hang on for dear life.

Trick’s thrust became more urgent. Nathan moaned surprised that he could take and want

more still.

“Harder,” Nathan whispered against Trick’s ear.

Trick let go of his cock, but took care not to thrust any deeper than he had been or risk

losing the condom. He could hardly believe the request he’d been given. Used to taking it easy

on his lovers, he’d never been asked to risk hurting his partners more. Yet Nathan seemed as

dizzy with passion as he felt.

He pushed in roughly. Nathan groaned but he seemed to enjoy it. Trick had taken special

care to make the experience as pleasurable as possible. He wanted this one to remember him. It

mattered. He’d never cared what someone thought of him afterward. They were faces and

darkened-room fucks that took care of need, based on little more than Trick’s attraction to them,

and their curiosity about getting fucked by him.

They’d all complained about the sting. They’d all whined, and he’d been careful with

them too. He’d never sunk completely inside someone, but he suspected that if the condom

weren’t a concern, Nathan would have let him.

A shiver of unexplainable pleasure wormed its way through him. He wanted that. He

wanted the opportunity to take Nathan body and soul with everything Trick was. The truth of it

and the full extent of himself. This wasn’t the time or the place, but the knowledge that a man

existed who not only wanted him, but remained unafraid and uncomplaining broke a dam inside

him. It opened the floodgates of possibility. Could Nathan accept him for who he really was?

Was this just a lay for him, or could his willingness to accept Trick and trust him be the tip of the

iceberg for other things Nathan would accept? Could Trick even test that theory successfully?

Did they actually have a chance worth exploring?

He pushed the thoughts away. They were a temptation he didn’t have the luxury of

delving into. He knew he wasn’t the gay man standard for attractive. There was nothing metro-

sexual about him. If anything he was a bear of a man who looked like he’d been beaten with the

forging hammer that had made him.

He wasn’t gentle or funny. He couldn’t be accused of being a family man either, never

having had a family to be a man for. He’d also never been a relationship guy, because men who

fucked him wanted to experience his cock, or say they’d had him. They didn’t look at him for

someone to stick around and make a life with.

This one though, the man beneath him who panted with pleasure and begged him for all

that Trick had, he was the forever kind. What the hell was the forever kind doing, letting a guy

like Trick fuck him? The world had tipped on its head. And the chances of finding hope with a

forever guy, suddenly dwindled to nothing in the light of his current lie.

Unless he was one of those relationship men who wanted a fling before he settled down.

Because those were the only times Trick had been with men like him.

Nathan’s mouth opened wordlessly. Trick’s attention riveted there, imagining his cock

pounding that sweet spot too. Legs tightened around his hips, pulling him in and it was

everything Trick could do to keep from giving in to the sweet desire to push fully inside.

Nathan’s firm body gloved Trick’s cock on each thrust and draw. Sweat broke out on

Trick’s temples and his arms began to tremble. He wanted to hold off, to brand the man he

fucked as deeply as Nathan had managed to brand him.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be a moment of getting laid with a

guy who wanted to get laid. Sex was sex. That’s all it was. That’s all it was. That’s all it was, he

repeated to himself with each thrust. Just bodies. Just sex. Just cock. Just cum. Just—damn it all!

Trick’s hips jerked and he shouted as he came, spurting hard and deep while Nathan’s

body wrenched ecstasy from him.

Nathan bellowed too. Moisture oozed between them, proof that his little lover had

managed to come again.

Chapter Seven

Nathan’s arms fell to his sides like jelly. His muscles burned and ticked. Naked, spent,

Trick dropped to the mattress beside him.

“Was it good for you?” Trick snapped.

Nathan blinked, confused at the annoyance in the other man’s voice. He rallied his

strength and rolled to his side. “What the fuck?”

Trick didn’t meet his eyes. “You came twice. I’m assuming you worked out all your

latent curiosity about gay mob men?”

“You came too. I trust you satisfied whatever burning desire you had to ram an FBI agent

up the ass?”

A smile twitched the other man’s lips. Good, now they both sounded ridiculous but at

least they were grinning. He wanted to tell the oaf that he’d been amazing, inspiring even. If

they’d been laying in his bed at home having done all that after a date, Nathan would’ve made

sure the guy knew how much he’d appreciated the extra effort he’d seen in Trick. He’d kiss him

all over, fondle him, rub his thighs and sprawl across his massive chest.

He’d probably even say sappy shit like, “You were fantastic,” and “My, what a big cock

you have,” and they’d joke about Nathan being the wolf and eating him. Then he’d waddle—

because, seriously? Walking?—to the kitchen to make them both a sandwich, which would seem

like the next thing to do.

And at home they’d cuddle, naked, and put their palms up like they were measuring their

hands and Nathan would playfully tug on Trick’s chest hair until Trick had no choice but to kiss

him into submission. Then they’d fall asleep together. He’d wake Trick up with a blow job, and

Trick would pull at the sheets, trying to stay still, and he’d use some of Trick’s techniques on the

man just to show him just how fucking amazing he’d been.

But that was at home. And this wasn’t even close to that. His smile faded.

This was a seedy motel room five hours outside of Quantico. And Trick wasn’t that guy.

He was a mobster with dead bodies in his past who was being brought in as an informant, and a

thousand other lovers he’d fucked because he’d liked them and not because they were agents

who posed a challenge to his personal scoring system.

“Yeah, it was good,” Nathan said.

He dropped onto his back and stared at the popcorn ceiling as though it held answers.

And that’s when the self-recrimination started. He closed his eyes on a disgusted sigh. A convict

had made him feel this way. A convict had blinded him into romantic thoughts and notions of

lazy evenings. God, Nathan was a fucking moron.

He sat up, crawled off the bed with a wince and collected the discarded clothes. He tossed

Trick’s at him, and silently pulled his own on. “When you’re dressed, go to the bathroom.”

“Yeah.”

Trick sounded about as dead as Nathan felt inside. He’d half-expected Trick to sweet-talk

him into staying free, or promise future sexual favors for the chance at getting away. Trick didn’t

do any of that. He went to the bathroom, washed up and sat at the headboard the way he’d been

when diNossi left. He didn’t flinch when Nathan cuffed him to the headboard. He didn’t

comment when Nathan put the key across the room on the dresser either.

Nathan’s fingers were still touching the key when he looked into the mirror at the man

behind him. “How did you get the key?”

“I palmed it off diNossi.”

“DiNossi’s a seasoned agent. He doesn’t make rookie mistakes like that.”

“Ask him.”

Something about the way he said it left Nathan suspicious. “If I asked him, what would

he tell me?”

A familiar secret smile warmed Trick’s features. “Guess you’d have to ask to find out.”

“I’m asking you.”

The smile faded. Trick seemed to be wrestling with something. “C’m’ere.”

Nathan left the key and returned to the bedside. He sat down at Trick’s hip facing him.

Trick’s gaze held on Nathan’s lips.

“Kiss me.”

Because it wasn’t a demand, but had a sad quality to it, Nathan did. Their lips touched,

and he found himself sighing as the tension between them seemed to fade. It was opposite of

everything that should’ve happened, and nowhere near appropriate for what had brought them

together in the first place.

The barest touch of Trick’s tongue against his was all it took for Nathan to deepen the

kiss until they were both getting handsy.

Nathan pulled away. “You were going to tell me?”

“No. I just wanted to kiss you again.”

He looked into Trick’s eyes for a moment before smiling. “Get some sleep. We’re up

early tomorrow.”

“You too. I believe you have second watch in about two hours.”

Trick dragged Nathan to the bed, and he wrapped him in the arm with the tattooed talon

circling Nathan’s upper chest.

“I should sleep over there. Away from you,” Nathan complained.

“No. I have two hours left with you. I’m claiming them.”

Trick snuggled in behind him giving Nathan a bittersweet picture of how things could

have been between them if Nathan had a different job and Trick was a different person. Trick

held him tightly, spooning around him with one arm awkwardly bound to the headboard. He

dropped a kiss on Nathan’s earlobe and settled in.

* * * *

Nathan awoke in the dark. His chest pressed Trick’s, and Trick was kissing his face with

fluttering touches. Nathan turned his face upward, reached for the bristly head he knew was

within reach, and dragged it down the brief distance to bring their lips together.

“I was going to leave you alone,” Trick explained with a harsh whisper against Nathan’s

lips. “I wasn’t going to do anything but hold you until you had watch.”

Nathan flattened his hand on Trick’s chest, sliding it down until he could open first

Trick’s pants and then his own. He knew what Trick wanted. Nathan wanted it too and their

bodies were ready for the task.

Nathan touched him, and the bigger man actually shuddered.

“I’ve wanted your hands on me,” Trick confessed.

“I’ve wanted to touch you.”

Nathan wiggled closer, wrapping their cocks together in both his hands. He moaned and

Trick, ever the opportunist, invaded Nathan’s mouth with an eager thrust of his tongue. Lust

raced through Nathan’s veins until he shook with it.

He pushed Trick back and climbed on top of him. As humping went, it was sloppy, but

the feel of Trick’s heavy cock rolling against his was more than payment for awkwardness.

Nathan rocked. Trick rhythmically bucked with him. Trick reached between them to hold their

cocks. Nathan got better traction and stole hungry kisses.

“So fucking sexy,” Trick muttered. “Damn hellcat in bed.”

“I’m going to have you.”

“You already do.”

Those words took Nathan over the edge. As a lover, he liked sex and enjoying his

partner’s body. What was happening with Trick went beyond his experience, though. He

couldn’t get enough of him in a way that left him feeling shaken, like a druggie on withdrawal.

He could only hope to get Trick out of his system. He feared he wouldn’t.

“One day, I want to see you ride me,” Trick breathed. “Ride me and shoot on my face.”

Damn Trick was good at sex talk. Not for the first time had his words stroked Nathan’s

cock like a verbal hand job.

“Might even let you tie me up properly. Last time,” he said between heavy breaths. “You

opened your mouth before I came. I imagined your lips stretched around my cock. Gagging,

taking it anyway.”

Nathan pinned him with a look and boldly opened his mouth. Trick swore and let go of

their dicks to stick his fingers in Nathan’s mouth. Nathan sucked them hard, holding his lover’s

gaze and taking over the iron grip on their shafts.

“Fuck me,” Trick muttered like a curse.

He pushed his fingers all the way in. Nathan curled his tongue on them and sucked,

holding his gag reflex in check though his eyes watered a little.

Trick erupted first, his cum slicking the way for Nathan’s almost immediately following.

He came to a stop. The fingers eased from his lips only to be replaced by tongue in a devastating

claim of his mouth by the burly mobster.

Nathan’s watch beeped in rapid succession. “That’s my shift in five minutes. I need to

clean up.”

He nodded.

Cleaning wet cum off his suit wasn’t easy. He look like he’d wet himself, after the rushed

scrubbing it took to remove most of it. He’d have to check again when it dried to see if there

were traces. Cleaning Trick was easier, and he took time to enjoy it where he could.

DiNossi’s knock sounded on the door. Nathan hurriedly put away Trick’s equipment and

opened the door.

“I’m beat.”

Trick snorted.

“I said beat, not beat off,” diNossi corrected pointedly.

Nathan ducked his head, pretending to be engrossed in arming himself. His heart raced at

what he thought diNossi knew. He needed this watch. He needed to get away. His judgment was

clouded and that was a bad thing.

Nathan left before further banter could be had at his expense. Leaning on the hood of the

car, he took a deep cleansing breath of fresh air. “I’m so fucked up, right now.”

Somehow saying the words out loud gave him clarity. It was a place to start from, to

correct his mistakes if there was still a chance of correcting them.

Could everything he’d worked for be worth throwing away for what was essentially a one

night stand?

Chapter Eight

DiNossi disarmed. He took a long drink of tap water and got into the untouched second

bed. Sighing, he turned his head toward Trick. “Is the sex that good?”

Trick didn’t answer, only held his look steadily.

“Did you tell him?” diNossi asked.

He shook his head.

“But you did have sex, is what you’re not saying,” diNossi stated rather than asked.

Trick didn’t feel right answering.

DiNossi sighed again. He folded his hands behind his head and stared upward. “He’s

toast, you know.”

“He’s fine.”

“His ego is going to be bruised, and you’ll be a reminder of how far he fell. How quickly

he lost his badge.”

Trick’s gaze sharpened on him. “You said you didn’t care. Are you telling me that my

actions will cause him to lose his badge?”

“What do you think, Detective? Would your captain keep you around after a professional

breach in protocol such as yours?”

“I’m undercover. I do what needs to be done to get the job done.”

“He’s not. He doesn’t have that leniency.” DiNossi reached for the lamp, clicking it off.

Only the bathroom light offered any illumination.

“You left me with the key to the cuffs. If you knew it would wreck his career, why would

you do that?”

“You’re not in the clear with this, Detective. Just because a key is there, doesn’t mean

you have to use it. It also doesn’t provide consent.” He rolled to his side, facing Trick across the

distance. “Have you been undercover so long that you forgot that? Did you forget that desk

jockeys of all branches live and die by the protocol? We aren’t exempt.”

Trick felt sick.

DiNossi yawned. “Doesn’t matter. Even if you forgot, the kid didn’t. It’s his job he just

flushed down the toilet.”

The pit of Trick’s stomach felt a little queasy. Had he cost Nathan his career? He hadn’t

meant to. He’d meant to make this trip enjoyable for himself and for Nathan. That had been the

plan, but the backfire seemed harsh.

“You’re reporting him,” Trick deduced. “Even though you weren’t going to.”

“I don’t have to. This kind of fuck up you don’t come back from. Not if you’re a good

agent. That kid is a decent kid. He’d have made an honest agent. Do you think he’ll get over the

lapse in judgment?”

God, who was he kidding? It wasn’t harsh. It was exactly what diNossi should be saying

to him. DiNossi was right. Messing around in the car, even on a fake mission, could cost the

young Fed everything he’d worked for. What was worse, Trick couldn’t warn him. There

wouldn’t be an opportunity to tell him before they got to Quantico without diNossi overhearing.

He’d already blown the Nathan’s career. He couldn’t ruin his mission too.

* * * *

Six a.m. came early. Trick’s eyes were gritty with lack of sleep. He’d drifted off well-into

diNossi’s snore pattern and wondered how Nathan had held up. His answer came with the

prescribed knock on the door, followed by the man stepping through.

“Time to go,” he said looking as bleary eyed as Trick felt.

DiNossi stretched, took a pee and followed them out the door.

Nathan handed the keys to his partner. “You’re driving.”

“Long night?” diNossi asked.

“Followed by a long day,” Nathan agreed.

Trick was cuffed in the front and Nathan promptly fell asleep in the backseat when they

pulled onto the road. Trick listened to the deep, even breaths. If he waited a few hours until the

kid woke up again, or drifted toward wakefulness, maybe he could reopen the conversation with

diNossi in a way that would reveal the truth to Nathan.

Except diNossi wasn’t stupid. He’d know, and he’d redirect however necessary. Hell,

Trick wouldn’t put it past him to pull out a roll of duct tape to make sure his suspect didn’t speak

out of turn.

That only left room for the surprise. Trick had spent enough time with Nathan to

recognize that he wouldn’t appreciate the moment the true nature of the mission was revealed. Or

how badly he’d done in the course of his assignment.

Trick winced in anticipation of that. Nathan would hate him. He should have been just as

unhappy about blowing his own cover—the way he’d felt last week when he realized the Feds

meant to expose him to the mob and destroy three years of hard work. He should have been, but

he wasn’t. Because regardless of whether or not the kid had pulled off his part perfectly, Trick’s

cover was busted. For that, if for no other reason, Trick should have kept his distance—to make

sure that at least one of them succeeded.

That’s not how it had worked out, though. Here Trick had been thinking he was busted so

he might as well have fun. He’d taken the kid down with him. All the while he’d thought he’d

been falling for the man despite himself. He’d led himself to believe that Nathan could be the

guy to change him, make him believe in a relationship.

God, what a fucking moron Trick had turned out to be. When push came to shove, he’d

covered his own ass. He’d tanked another person’s career for the sake of his insatiable dick. If

he’d actually cared about the kid, he’d have thought about the ramifications of screwing around

with Agent Rohn’s career.

So why the hell did he feel like shit? Why did he wish he could take back the last twenty-

four hours and get a do-over? Why did the idea of erasing everything they’d shared, raise bile in

his throat?

Because it did matter. It had mattered. Nathan mattered. After today Nathan would

cheerfully level his Glock on Trick and pull the trigger for fucking up his life. And Trick

wouldn’t blame him.

Chapter Nine

Nathan stretched and sat up. The ride had been silent except for the occasional use of the

radio until static got too annoying and either diNossi or Trick turned it off again. The wind

whipped through the car, buffeting his ears with its own kind of listless static. Conversation

didn’t do well in that environment, and Nathan was relieved. He had plenty to occupy his mind

as it was. Aimless chatter wouldn’t have helped.

He stared out the window wondering at the choices he’d made recently and why he’d

made them. He’d spent two years kicking his own ass to make it in the FBI. He’d finally reached

a point where he was being considered as someone to lead an investigation. Why had he allowed

himself to get distracted from that?

The terrain offered him no answers. The ground rolled in low hills covered with lush

greenery. The road curved around them and through them as any self-respecting off-highway

drive would.

“Make the call,” diNossi said, looking at him in the rear-view mirror.

Nathan dialed the number and gave the waiting team a five minute estimated time of

arrival.

The assorted buildings of Quanitco leaped into view and diNossi was forced onto a major

freeway. They passed the training facility and the laboratory. Within minutes diNossi pulled up

in front of the drop point. Three men in FBI gear and flack-jackets met them at the car.

Trick kept his eyes on him as he was pulled out of the car. He sent Nathan an apologetic

smile. They took him away, and diNossi slapped Nathan on the back.

“Well, we got him here in one piece. That’s something.”

“What happens now?” Nathan asked numbly.

“They want you there for the interview of the suspect.”

A roll of anxiety squeezed his gut. “Why?”

DiNossi gave him a little push. “So you can see how these guys do it. You know what we

do, and we’re pretty by-the-book, but you haven’t seen a witness questioned until you see

Quantico do it. They’re real hard-asses. If there’s something they want to know, Trick has no

hope of keeping it secret.”

Nathan swallowed hard. All the more reason he should run the opposite direction. But

this was his job. This is why he was here. This, and making sure that if the horrible truth about

what had happened between them came to light, Nathan knew exactly how much the FBI knew.

He trudged into the building and flashed his badge at the first checkpoint. He had to have

it scanned on the third floor before they’d let him enter the observation room. Moments later

they brought in Trick.

“Agent Latham, questioning the witness for case number foxtrot, Lima, five two one one

delta. Please state your name for the record,” Latham flipped through a thick file, addressing the

papers more than the man they’d brought in.

Trick’s eyes went straight to the one-way mirror, as though he knew Nathan was there.

“Detective Stanley Patrick Hampton.”

Like a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head, Nathan froze. His ears rang

and he was only vaguely aware of the man giving his badge and precinct affiliation. A cop? He’d

brought in and fucked a cop? A cop named Stanley Hampton, whose only possible claim to the

truth was the nickname Trick. And Nathan had damn well been tricked.

Rage filled him. He gripped the edge of the wall that framed the one-way glass.

“Please state the nature of your undercover status,” Agent Latham continued.

“To infiltrate the Linder family, document criminal activities and provide accurate

information for future arrests.”

“Please state the nature of your willing custody to the Federal Bureau of Investigation,”

Latham droned.

Willing custody? Who was Latham kidding? Nathan and Donny had brought him in at

gun point with firearms blazing as they hit the helipad. Willing his ass!

“I was redirected off the case for the benefit of the FBI when information regarding

interstate crime became made known.” Trick shot another look at the glass. “And when the FBI

presented a parallel co-mission to serve as an undercover suspect for the further training of

Agent Nathan Rohn.”

Nathan pushed angrily away from the wall and stormed toward the door. He hadn’t heard

diNossi step into the room, but the man blocked him now.

“You’re under orders to stay and listen, Agent Rohn.”

Nathan swore, spun around and stomped back to the glass. He folded his arms stiffly.

Glaring through the glass he hoped Stanley could feel the hate that burned in Nathan’s gut.

Except it wasn’t hate. Because even now, when he feared of losing everything, he felt more

betrayed and hurt than furious.

He listened to the rest of the interview, waiting for Trick to tell the rest of the sordid

story. His training exercise was actually a debriefing of Trick’s time with the Jerome Linder’s

crew. He could see the frustration Trick was having when he talked about the destruction to his

cover and how there was no going back.

Trick never tipped his hand that Nathan had behaved in any other way but professionally.

DiNossi clasped Nathan’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “That’s going to be on my

report too. And nothing else, in case you were wondering.” DiNossi left the room.

The questioning continued and Nathan dropped his forehead against the glass. Betrayal

broke away to the answer he’d been searching for on the drive to Quantico.

This had always been his father’s dream. He’d always wanted one of his sons to carry on

the family tradition. Every generation of the Rohn family was supposed to have a federal agent.

Apparently, Nathan wasn’t the one.

As badly as he’d wanted to please his father, as hard as he’d worked to get here, there

was only one real reason why he’d risk everything to be with Trick. He didn’t want the life bad

enough. Because no matter how tempting Trick had been—and he’d been very tempting—

Nathan’s integrity meant something to him.

Nathan gripped the handle of the observation room door, giving himself a final chance to

reconsider and was met only with certainty. He tugged the door open and stepped through.

Fortunately, the walk to the Deputy Director’s office wasn’t a long one.

* * * *

Trick hadn’t seen Nathan in the week since they’d reached Quantico. He’d been shuffled

from one interview session to the other, barely given time to rest, before giving more dates and

more contact information.

The reports for each day were transcribed and the following morning, Trick read through

them, signed off on their accuracy and either added more remembered details, or began more

interviews. It was tedious and tiring. All he wanted was to lay eyes on Agent Rohn. He needed to

know that everything had gone okay for him. He needed to know if Nathan had earned his

elevated status.

He needed to look into his eyes and see how pissed Nathan was and if…

If what? There his mind stopped. He didn’t know what he wanted. Hell, he didn’t know if

he even had any right to know what he wanted after what he’d already done—potentially done—

to Nathan’s career in the FBI.

But somehow he knew that if he looked into Nathan’s eyes, he’d have the answer to that

if. He wanted that answer so much that it stung his throat the way the kick of a shotgun stung a

man’s shoulder.

He finally got the number for the sector office in Indiana. When he got a break at lunch,

Trick dialed it. He pushed a finger against his other ear to drown out ambient sound. Whatever

Nathan said, he wanted to hear it.

He waded through the introductory greeting from the phone attendant. “This is Detective

Hampton with the Allen County Police Department. I’d like to speak to Agent Nathan Rohn

please.”

“I’m sorry, but there isn’t an Agent Rohn in this field office.”

“Did he transfer?” Trick wondered. If he’d been promoted, perhaps they’d needed him at

another location.

“No, Detective. Agent Rohn is no longer active.”

“Explain,” he asked tightly.

“If you’ll give me just a moment, I’ll get Agent diNossi to help you.”

A minute later, Agent diNossi came on the phone.

“Where’s Nathan,” Trick began, cutting through the crap.

“He left, Detective. He turned in his badge and gun the day you arrived at Quantico.”

“They fired him?” God, he couldn’t feel more like a shit.

“No. He reported himself.”

“But I didn’t say anything,” Trick argued.

“I know. He knows. But it’s like I said. That kid is a good egg. Did you really think he’d

be able to keep a job failure to himself?”

“No,” Trick quietly agreed after a moment. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Where is

he now?”

“Sometimes he heads over to St. Joe’s Hospital to check on Donny. He pulled through,

by the way. He’s under constant guard, but he made it.”

“Good. What about the pilot?” Trick asked, wanting to know, but not caring nearly as

much as finding out where the kid was.

“Pilot’s all right, too. Different state.”

“I need an address, diNossi.”

“For the pilot?” diNossi joked.

“For the kid. I need to find him.”

“It’s not a good idea for you to come to town right now. The Feds are here in force

following up on your leads. The shit’s about to hit the fan. You’re going to be number one on the

mob hit list.”

“I don’t care.”

“He’s visiting his family. Breaking the news or something. It was a big deal to them that

he was an agent.”

“They’ll probably want to string me up,” Trick considered.

“Probably. Better take your gun and your badge just in case.”

“And the address?” Trick reminded.

“I’ll text it over to you. You’re secure?”

“I’m secure. Send when you have it.” Trick hung up.

He had another day of interviews to go, then he was on the first flight to Indianapolis.

Chapter Ten

Nathan scrubbed a hand over his face, then through his messy mop of hair. After telling

his family that he’d left the FBI, his dad had called in the brothers, and his mom had wandered

away to bake. She’d kept baking through the shouting, then the silence, then the dejected

questioning about what Nathan expected to do with his life.

That was easy. The FBI had been his dad’s dream for him, not his own. Condescending

to a desk job wasn’t desirable either. His passion had always been veterinary science. Maybe it

was time to go back to school and sort that out.

Nathan stumbled off the last stair. His waistband pulled down around his hips. He tugged

at the leg of his pajama pants to free the hem from where it had caught under his heel. It was

only eight o’clock, but the house had gone silent. He appreciated the hollow tick-tock of the

antique grandfather clock in the wide hallway.

After the drama of the past week, it was a relief to have the downstairs to himself. His

brothers had gone home a few days ago, more upset that Dad would look to them to fill the

federal role Nathan had vacated, than out of disappointment in him.

A knock dragged his attention to the front of the house. Nathan scratched his chest

through the white cotton t-shirt and headed that way.

Nathan flipped on the outside light and opened the door. It wasn’t fully dark yet. Thank

God or the looming giant on the front steps would have scared the shit out of him.

“Hey,” Trick said.

He had his hands in his pockets and his shoulders were hunched like an errant child

caught doing something he probably should be doing. He looked better than Nathan

remembered: rougher, tougher, grittier. His heart leaped in his chest as every memory of him

came flooding back. The good ones and the ones that hurt.

“Hey,” he answered inadequately.

“You’re hard to track down. You’d think the FBI would keep tabs on former employees.”

“They do,” Nathan said. “I’m on file for life. They just aren’t going to share it with

anyone.”

“They kept me at Quantico for more than a week to debrief,” Trick explained.

“You did a faster job of debriefing me,” Nathan muttered.

Trick rocked from on foot to the other. “You think I could come in? I owe you an

apology.”

He thought about it for a few seconds before dropping his hand from the doorknob and

stepping aside. Trick moved passed him and through the hall to the living room visible beyond.

“In here?” he asked.

Nathan nodded. “I’d offer you a drink, but you aren’t staying that long.”

“They want me to testify to what I know,” Trick began.

“Are you surprised?”

“No. It’s just happening sooner than I expected.”

“Funny how that happens,” Nathan mused.

Trick walked to the couch but instead of sitting, he turned. His gaze darted between

Nathan’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“You couldn’t have told me,” Nathan relented. “We both know it. You were under orders

not to reveal your identity for the purpose devised by the FBI. It’s not like you could have

broken that agreement.”

“I was under control of what I did while you were on duty,” Trick argued back. “I lied to

myself about what I thought would happen to you if the FBI found out. I knew, deep down, it

wasn’t good for your career. It was selfish.”

“Yeah, it was,” Nathan agreed. He lifted his chin and crossed the room to the burly

detective. “Here’s the thing. I knew my duty. I’ve known it for years. Hell, I knew it from the

time I learned to put on a tie, that one day I’d be expected to don the FBI uniform. What

happened on the road to Quantico was definitely preventable.”

Trick opened his mouth to interject, but Nathan stopped him with a quick shake of his

head.

“I’m not a child. I know you like to tease me, call me a kid, but I’m a grown man. I

could’ve said no at any time.” Nathan shrugged. “I didn’t. There’s only one reason I can think of

that would make me act so far out of character: I wanted to.”

Trick’s brow furrowed. “I don’t get it. You spent two years intensively training for a lead

investigative role, only to throw it away with a cop you barely knew and hardly liked.”

“Yeah, okay, you could look at it like that.”

“How else would I look at it, Nathan? Tell me, because I’d really like to know.”

“I wanted out. I wasn’t as committed as I needed to be to carry on. But if I’d wanted to

throw it away, it didn’t have to be by sleeping with you.”

“I see,” Trick said tightly, dropping his gaze. “I was your convenient out.”

“Honey? Is everything okay? I thought I heard voices.” His mom came downstairs,

trailed by his dad.

“Everything’s fine. I’m just visiting with a friend,” Nathan assured them.

“Mr. and Mrs. Rohn? It’s good to meet you. I’m Detective Trick Hamilton.” Trick strode

across the floor with his hand outstretched.

Nathan’s mom looked alarmed. Nathan’s dad balled a fist.

“The Detective who talked my son out of his job?” Mr. Rohn snapped.

“Dad, no. That’s not what happened.”

“Then what was it? What was it about this man and this assignment that made you leave?

He had something to do with it,” Mr. Rohn insisted.

“He did, but not by anything that was his fault. He just…woke me up,” Nathan said,

meeting Trick’s eyes. “Go back up stairs, Mom and Dad. I’m fine. Trick and I need to clear the

air.”

“You’re sure honey?”

His mom didn’t look so comforted. She kept eyeing Trick like he was about to pull out a

gun or a pair of brass knuckles. Nathan couldn’t blame her. He’d thought the same thing when

he’d first met him.

“I’m sure. I need to do this. Alone,” Nathan reiterated.

His parents slowly wandered out of the room. He heard his dad banging around in the

kitchen, taking his time before he decided to follow his wife upstairs.

“Nice folks,” Trick murmured. “Protective. That’s good.”

“They’re good people,” Nathan agreed. He dropped his hands on his hips. “We do need

to talk. Do you want that drink now?”

Trick nodded and followed Nathan to the kitchen. He got to the archway and burst out

laughing. “What the fuck?”

“Mom bakes when things get uncomfortable. There’s been a lot of tension around here

the past week. They finally got it, but Dad’s been reduced to sour looks and the occasional grunt.

Tonight was more than he’s said to me in days.”

“He was pretty mad, huh?”

“You must be a detective or something.”

“Or something,” Trick said grinning. His smile faded just as fast as he looked around the

kitchen. “She’s really worried about you. There isn’t a spare inch of counter space not covered

with cakes or cookies.”

“Mm,” Nathan agreed.

He poured Trick a glass of water, then himself one. He tipped his head and led them back

to the living room with a plate of homemade chocolate chip cookies. They sat beside each other

on the couch.

“I like soccer,” Trick blurted out suddenly. “I don’t like football. It’s a pussy’s sport with

all the padding. Rugby, though. I’d watch that before I’d go to a football game.”

Nathan chuckled his confusion. “What?”

Trick had been staring into his glass intently. Suddenly he looked up, his eyes earnest.

“Was sleeping with me an excuse to get out of the FBI? Because if it was an excuse, I’ll go, but

if there was another reason, I need to know.”

Nathan liked the way his brow wrinkled. It developed three wavy lines across his

forehead and the outer corner of his eyes pinched making little crow’s feet appear. His cheeks

were ruddy, too, and Trick fidgeted with his drinking glass, turning it round and round between

his palms in an atypical show of nerves.

He didn’t have the personal experience to say he’d never seen Trick like this, but it did

occur to him that what he was witnessing seemed out of the ordinary for Trick. He wore his

discomfort like a jacket that hadn’t been tailored well. Kind of like the way the FBI jacket had

felt on Nathan’s shoulders.

“I think I rationalized that you were a handy diversion. I think that’s what started the ball

rolling, so to speak,” Nathan admitted. “I’d seen you in the bar. We had sex and it was—great,

actually. Then I found out you were my suspect. It was a little overwhelming at first.”

“I didn’t know you were you in the bar than night, until you told me your name. You

could’ve knocked me over with a feather. I meant to get information from you about the group

you were with.”

“You told me,” Nathan reminded him.

“And then you were the one bringing me in. You handled the chopper. I couldn’t believe

how easy you made it look to hold it together and land the thing. I hate flying. I couldn’t have

done what you did,” Trick said.

“Thanks.” Nathan twisted to see him better, leaning his shoulder against the back

cushions. He tucked a leg under his outside knee. “I was scared, but I was more scared of dying.”

“Then we were in the car, and I had time to think, you know? I had time to remember the

bar and the way you handled stuff. I had time to think about little stuff like the way you looked

up at me from the ground when I was still in the chopper, and the way you kept insisting I shut

up. I wanted to piss you off so that you’d spend the trip ignoring me.”

“You didn’t try hard enough.”

“I got distracted. You’re damn cute.” Trick seemed to relax. He mirrored the way Nathan

was sitting.

The plantation blinds behind the couch were shut, but Nathan could still see that the light

beyond them had long gone. There were no shuffling feet upstairs and the sounds of water

running for tooth brushing and bed preparation had stopped. The grandfather clock marked the

passing of seconds with each heavy swing of the pendulum. And still, Nathan looked at the man

who’d first intimidated him, and now made him feel peaceful.

It had happened too fast for him to trust it, and yet, here he sat, needing the same answers

that Trick seemed to be seeking. “Was I revenge for ruining your cover?” he asked finally.

Trick tipped his head to the side. “No. I don’t know what you were, Nathan. I’ve never

been down this particular path before. I just know you’re different. I don’t know what it means,

but I need to find out.”

“I saw the beginning of your interview when we arrived. I know you didn’t tell them

what happened between us, unless it was after I left.”

“I never said a word. Neither did diNossi.”

Nathan plucked at a nub on the cushion his fingers rested on. “I resigned.”

“But why? I wouldn’t have outted you.” Trick thought he knew the answer. He hoped he

was right.

“I couldn’t. They might never know, but I would. I knew I’d messed up.” Nathan looked

at him then. His brown eyes seemed to swallow Trick whole. “I also knew there had to be a

deeper reason for why I let you get me. I’m not the kind of person who allows himself to ruin his

name for a fling. That left me two brand new realizations. One, you already know. The FBI life

isn’t for me, and I was looking for a way out. I hid behind what happened with you as my

excuse.”

“And the other?” Trick asked, still not sure he liked the first answer.

“There’s something between us. It’s too soon to know what it is, and I can’t say I trust it

yet, but there is definitely a thing.”

Trick linked their fingers and held on. “Yeah, there is.” Nathan could hear the relief in his

voice.

“I like football,” Nathan said with a warming grin.

“There’s no accounting for taste.”

“I hate pecans, but every Thanksgiving Mom makes a pecan pie just for me because she

forgets. She also thinks lasagna is my favorite dinner, but it’s not. That’s James’ favorite. He’s

the middle brother.”

“I have a kid brother in the FBI. He was at Quantico when you brought me in,” Trick told

him.

“Oh yeah? Which one?”

“The big, blond one.”

“The beefcake, right. He’s so clean cut!” Nathan accused.

“I’m a family aberration. Quasimodo of the Hampton crew.”

Nathan laughed. “I’m allergic to birds. Cats, dogs, hamsters are all fine. Birds break me

out into hives.”

“I’m allergic to latex. The condom we used that night? Yeah, I had blisters for days after

that.”

Nathan howled with amusement.

“If there’s another time,” Trick hedged, “I suggest latex free, like the bartender gave me.”

“I’ll stock up,” Nathan said almost shyly.

Trick tugged their joined hands, hauling Nathan close enough to kiss. He’d missed the

feel of Nathan’s mouth under his. He took his time rediscovering it. There was more he needed

to know. Everything hinged on Nathan’s answer to his real question, if he could work up the

nerve to ask it. He pulled back to look at Nathan.

“We have all night. Tell me more about yourself,” Trick said.

“What kind of things?”

“Like the bunny story. Tell me things like that.”

“I’ve broken both arms and an ankle. My right arm was from balancing on the top of the

swing set. My brother, Greg, said I was a baby for crying, so I stopped crying. The left was from

carrying a tall wooden ladder. We were going to climb on the roof, but I tripped and my arm got

caught in one of the rungs. My nose broke when I thought jumping off the top of a water slide

was a good idea, completely forgetting that the water slide was wet, and therefore slippery.”

Trick nodded thoughtfully. “That tells me a few things.”

“Like what?”

“That you’re not so coordinated with heights. And that I should’ve been a lot more scared

in the chopper.”

Nathan laughed.

“I’ve broken just about everything,” Trick said. “There are few stunts I didn’t try as a kid.

The most creative thing was when I had the worst case of chicken pox in the neighborhood. I

snuck into Mrs. Lindgarden’s kitchen and used all her baking powder and baking soda to make a

skin poultice. Mom didn’t cook, and I couldn’t remember if it was the powder or the soda that

made it better. Anyway, I turned myself into something of a flaking zombie. Mrs. Lindgarden

walked in, screamed, and started smacking me with a frying pan. Broke two fingers and bruised

several ribs.”

“And that tells me to keep you out of my mom’s kitchen, and that Mrs. Lindgarden was

actually a little off-balance.”

“Drunk, actually. It was pretty funny.”

“Wow, Trick, you’ve got a twisted sense of humor,” Nathan noted, but he was still

laughing so Trick didn’t think it could be considered a reprimand.

* * * *

Trick propped his head in his hand, his elbow on the armrest. Lazily he wrapped his

finger in one of Nathan’s dark curls from where he looked up at him on Trick’s lap. Morning

light seeped through the plantation slats, and they’d found the easy silence after hours of

conversation. Trick just had one more thing to ask.

His forever guy had no idea what was coming. He had no inkling that a decision needed

to be made. After a full night of talking, Trick hoped for all the things they could keep talking

about, but he knew what he was. Trick looked like a thug. He walked and talked and laughed like

he was a guy accustomed to long nights in a bar. He had perpetual stubble and hair salted a good

ten years too early for his age, and he looked old. Or older.

He was the guy that men looked at for a challenge either in a brawl or in the sack. He

wasn’t the kind of guy someone looked at and said, “I want to wake up next to that every day.”

“Nathan…”

Nathan smiled as he waited for the rest.

Trick didn’t think he’d ever been this nervous about anything. Not a drug bust, not a gang

war. Yet those trusting brown eyes, the sweet paused smile and the quiet sigh left Trick terrified.

Nathan reached up and stroked Trick’s jaw. “Yes?”

“I told you I’m going to be called to testify in the Jerome Linder case when it goes to

trial.”

“Yeah, you said,” Nathan answered.

“It could be months to a couple of years before the case is adequately built against him.”

He could see the minute Nathan understood. The softness left and a calculating look

entered the brown depths. “You’re going away,” Nathan guessed correctly.

“Out of reach. I’m being given a new identity for a while, and set up somewhere to start

over. I won’t be able to call you or see you,” Trick continued.

Nathan sat up and scooted close. “When?”

Trick glanced at his watch. “Today. About four hours from now.”

“And you’re just telling me this now?” Nathan’s near shout surprised him.

Trick couldn’t look at his face and see disgust, and he was sure that’s what would be

there in about a second. “I wanted to ask—to see—if you’d come with me.”

“Yes.”

Trick’s head jerked around, incredulously. “You wouldn’t see your family or talk to

them. I don’t know how long it would be. No friends, no contact, nothing. Just me.”

“Are you trying to talk me out of it?” Nathan said, a curious smile smoothing into place.

“No. God, no.” He grabbed Nathan in a hug. “You’ve said yes. I’m not letting you back

out.” He pushed Nathan back out to arm’s length. “Wait. You’d come with me as my boyfriend

right? Not just some adventure or lark or thing that’ll run you away from the family FBI drama?”

Nathan laughed. “You don’t think spending the next undetermined time with you is an

adventure? We’ve just met, but I know more about you than some of my own family. If you want

me there enough to ask, I want to be there with you.”

“But…”

“Shut up,” Nathan demanded softly, kissing him as though to make his point.

Trick couldn’t believe his good luck. A guy who didn’t want to run for the hills. His guy.

His forever guy.

“But nothing,” Nathan said when the kiss ended. “We’ve just started this thing between

us. I’d like to see how it plays out, and I’m not willing to wait a couple of years to do that. My

family will understand eventually. They have their lives, and I have mine. Going into hiding isn’t

permanent, but we could be. I think that deserves a chance, and so do you or you wouldn’t have

asked.”

“Who knows? Maybe your dad will think of this as FBI protection,” Trick teased.

“The only protection I need is a stash of non-latex condoms. C’mon. I should wake my

parents and say good-bye properly. It’s gonna be hard on them and they’re going to want these

last few hours.” Nathan stood, pulling Trick to his feet with a hefty tug.

“I can share you for a few more, I guess.” Trick pulled Nathan into his arms. “Thank you

for saying yes.”

Nathan loosely wrapped his arms around Trick’s middle. “You say that now,” the big

man said. “Just wait until you’re stuck with only me for company.”

Epilogue

Seven months later…

Nathan tangled his fingers in Trick’s hair. He’d never have guessed that it would grow

out straight and blond. Pre-mature graying gave him streaks of white that looked like a surfer-

boy sun-bleached look. That’s probably why they’d been dropped off in Hawaii. As far as

witness protection, things could’ve been worse than being trapped in paradise with the love of

his life.

Trick snored softly, and Nathan couldn’t help but admire his robust lover. He rarely saw

Trick work out, yet the man had muscles for days. The Hawaiian sun had tanned him, and Trick

had discovered the benefits of waxing his chest. Fortunately, some of it had grown back in, and

Nathan dropped his hand there to touch the wiry strands.

So much man and he was all Nathan’s. God, when had he gotten so lucky?

Not able to resist the urge, Nathan leaned over and brushed his lips along the ever-present

stubble on Trick’s jaw. He loved the feel of it on his skin and just that small tickle to his mouth

and tip of his tongue brought Nathan’s cock to full-mast.

He tried hard not to laugh, but he’d slept with Trick every night and he knew the man

well enough to know when he was faking. Trick laid perfectly still, softly snortling as he had

only minutes ago, but the tension in the air was different. So was the undeniable tenting

underneath the sheets.

They’d said, “I love you” already, but the temptation to show his man over and over

again, never faded. They belonged together. Following Trick had been the best decision of his

life.

Nathan eased between the sheets and Trick’s larger body. He held himself over Trick and

slowly sank between his legs. He rested his cheek on Trick’s chest content to listen to the steady

beating of his heart for several seconds, while his hands found places to touch. Warm, pliable

flesh over solid muscle tingled his finger pads on their sightless examination.

Those were the arms that held him every night. Those, he thought, moving to his hands

and mentally imagining the tattoo there, were the hands that dried and put away dishes for him.

These were the shoulders, he thought, moving his exploration upward, that he leaned on when he

missed his family. They never turned away.

These were the ribs that heaved when he was scared for Nathan, or when they made love

and sometimes the two cried because they couldn’t believe they’d found each other. And these

legs brought him home to Nathan every night.

Nathan linked their fingers, feeling the gentle bite from Trick’s matching metal ring on

his left ring finger. He squirmed down Trick’s body, dropping soft kisses as he went. Trick’s full

cock nudged Nathan’s chin as he got to the large man’s pelvis. Already it was slick, and Nathan

looked up.

Trick gazed down at him. His fingers tightened on Nathan’s as his eyes spoke all the

words that Nathan had just been thinking. He smiled, and Trick smiled back.

“Good morning,” Trick murmured sleepily.

Nathan gripped Trick’s shaft. He took his time giving the tip an open-mouthed kiss. He

pulled off and winked. “It’s about to get very, very good.”

About the Author

Mia makes her home in Grand Rapids, Michigan, where she divides her time between a job and

spying on people. Mia enjoys long walks in Como Park, daisies, dancing in the snow...(Delete

prior sentence, meant for personal ad)...

Mr. Perfect may apply in person for a thorough evaluation and trial. All others will be towed.

Want to read more Handcuffs and Lace?

Also Available from Resplendence Publishing:

Balls and Chain by Mia Watts

Sam Bahlson doesn’t know what the hell is going on. The FBI storm his workplace, take him

into custody, and then tell him he’s the target of a notorious hitman. Since he’s pretty low

maintenance and doesn’t take a lot of risks, he finds it hard to believe. Yet when Agent Jude

Cheney whisks him off to protective custody, it’s bullet grazing chase to the finish line.

When Sam discovers that Jude’s hot for him, he’s determined to make protective custody as

enjoyable as possible. The bad guys keep coming, and so does Jude. Will they nab the man

behind the hit in time, or is Sam’s life going to end at gun point?

The Policeman’s Balls by Mia Watts

Brian McCray can’t believe his bad luck in getting caught by the police for breaking into his own

home—until he sees the cop in question. Now all he wants to do is catch the sexy protector of the

peace and give him some piece…of ass.

Officer Joshua Severn has to admit that Brian is attention grabbing. Brian’s also going to rack up

a lot of tickets if he doesn’t stop inventing reasons to see Josh. Then one night a kiss sparks

something Josh wants to explore, unfortunately so does Internal Affairs when it’s caught on

cruiser cam.

What began as a little play has turned into something loaded, and Officer Severn is more than

prepared to fire his weapon.

Brass Balls by Mia Watts

Kissing a fellow police officer might not have been the smartest drunken move Oak Takala has

made in recent years. Okay, and it might have complicated the issue that the officer in question is

his father’s former partner, Wyatt Peterman. Aaaaaand there’s the fact that Peterman is the newly

appointed precinct captain.

So what the fuck? Why not go balls to the wall and make a play no one will forget?

Also Available from

Resplendence Publishing

Facing Fitz by Kim Dare

A to Z Series, Book 4

It took Harvey months to work up the courage to let his friends set him up on a date with Fitz—a
dominant he’d been admiring from afar ever since he set foot in the local kinky clubs. But, when
their first scene ended in disaster before it even got started, he was very quick to retreat.

Forget going back to the club where he made a fool of himself. Harvey’s determined never to
leave the house again. Facing Fitz is out of the question.

Fitz, however, has other ideas. Intrigued by what he saw on that first date he’s determined to do a
real scene with Harvey. Dominant to the core, Fitz has no intention of walking away from a boy
he’s genuinely interested in without a fight.

Harvey is going to have to get over his embarrassment and face Fitz sooner or later and, with the
help of a few friends, Fitz is determined he’ll do that tonight.

Line of Fire by Simone Anderson

SEALS at the Ready Series

Christian Williams has lived with his secret his whole life, and he’s not ready to give it up. He’s
especially not ready to face the consequences.

Consequences be damned, Hayden Medema is tired of living a lie. Don’t Ask Don’t Tell is dead
and gays are serving openly in the rest of the military. The Navy SEALs should be no different.

After coming face to face at a gay bar in a different city and a whirlwind weekend of sex,
Christian and Hayden along with fourteen other SEALs are sent on what appears to be another
routine mission, until someone learns their secret and everything goes horribly wrong.

Romero and Julian by Brynn Paulin

Stay away from them! Wesley Romero and Micah Julian have heard the admonitions their entire

lives, but when lightning-fast attraction strikes them one night, they can’t deny the connection
that binds them. Their families may be engaged in a long-standing feud, but Wes and Micah
want to solve their differences in a more civilized manner—in bed and in each other’s embrace,
where arm-to-arm combat has never been so good.

In For a Penny by Carol Lynne

What’s the old saying…you can never go home again? Raven Black resigned himself to never
returning after being ordered from the only real home he’d ever known. Now, seven years later,
Raven is back to face the man who sent him away.

Zane Conner is not only Raven’s foster brother but the only man Raven ever loved. Despite his
mixed feelings about the situation, Raven can’t deny Zane when the older man asks for his help
in saving the Lazy C Bar Ranch. A boy found dead on the ranch clinches Raven’s decision.

Why did the young boy look so much like he had at that age—the same age he’d been when his
own father had beaten him and left him for dead?

In the Shadow of a Hero by Anna Mayle

A cop dies in the city, life goes on. For one little boy, though, it changed everything. Haunted by
his past, Maxwell Thomas has grown up homeless and friendless, trapped by his guilt. Prowling
the city, the small man guards the Church District like a vigilante, trying to make up for his
crime. When he rescues the wrong rent boy, he is pulled back into the madness that destroyed
him as a child. And now, another cop's life is on the line...

Nick Kenna is a beat cop with dreams of being a detective. When he stumbles across a murder
and the very unusual suspect, he finds himself caught, not only by the mystery of the vagrant he's
apprehended, but something deeper that sparks between them.

Will Nick be able to save Maxwell, from his past and himself? Or will love be lost as the broken
man fades into the shadow of his hero?