Every part of his policeman’s brain told him to say no. They could fake a few moans and grunts and get out of there. They didn’t need to actually do anything.
His professionalism told him to say no.
But the word eluded him as he stared into Aaron’s eyes, the promise in those blue-grey depths too much for him to ignore. “They think we’re together now,” he whispered instead. His mouth curved up into a smile as he went all in. “I don’t want to jeopardise our cover… so yes. We’re doing this.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“We’re doing this.”
Aaron blinked, letting the words sink in. He’d only been half-serious when he’d asked the question, and he hadn’t exactly been truthful before when he’d said he could smell it on Smith’s bodyguards. Yeah, he’d caught a whiff of arousal from one of them, but he had no idea what they were actually thinking. An educated guess told him they were expecting him and Michael to finish what they’d started. But saying he could smell it on them was bollocks, really.
One long inhale told him how turned on Michael was, but he didn’t need his wolf senses for that. He felt the evidence for himself. Aaron wanted nothing more than to take what he was offering, bury his face in Michael’s neck and drown in that scent while they got each other off.
“I can’t smell it on them,” he offered, wanting to be honest. “I was talking shit.”
Michael laughed and slid his hands around Aaron’s waist. “I figured.” He shoved his leg between Aaron’s again, rubbing up against him. “But I think you’re right. They’ll expect us to be going at it.” His hands slid down to cup Aaron’s arse cheeks and gave them a squeeze. “So we should get a move on with that.”
Aaron sighed and gave up trying to resist. He’d started it all, but they both wanted this. Tightening his fingers in Michael’s hair, he pulled him into a kiss—long and desperate, all the tension built up over the past week pouring out of him. But Michael was right, they needed to be quick.
Dropping to his knees, Aaron reached for Michael’s belt buckle. Two seconds later he had it undone as well as all the buttons on his jeans. He took a moment to admire the long line of Michael’s cock stretching the black cotton underneath, traced his thumb up the length of it, and rubbed back and forth over the head. Michael’s sharp intake of breath spurred him on, and Aaron made short work of pulling his jeans and boxer briefs down enough to free his cock.
“Fuck.” Michael moaned, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet room.
Holding the base of Michael’s dick to keep it steady, Aaron opened his mouth and slowly sucked him in until his lips brushed the side of his hand. The thud as Michael’s head hit the lockers behind him made Aaron want to smile, and he hummed his appreciation when Michael’s hands found their way into his hair.
If they were at home, if he had Michael in his bed, then Aaron would take his time, draw this out for as long as they could both stand, tasting every part of Michael’s body.
But they weren’t in Aaron’s flat. They were in a disused bathroom with two of Smith’s bodyguards waiting outside for them to finish. Who knew if he’d get this opportunity again though? Aaron hadn’t thought much beyond this moment, so fuck it all, he was going to make the most of the short time they had.
Blocking out everything else, he concentrated on the heady scent of Michael and sex filling his lungs each time he breathed in. The taste of him on his tongue as he licked and sucked his way up and back down, over and over, until the grip Michael had on his hair verged on painful.
“Close,” Michael hissed.
Fumbling with his own jeans, Aaron got them open in time to wrap a hand around himself as Michael thrust into his mouth. Frantically jacking himself off, Aaron moaned as Michael’s cock swelled and hardened even more.
“Fuck.”With a death grip on Aaron’s hair, Michael shuddered as his orgasm hit him, cock pulsing on Aaron’s tongue as he spilt down his throat.
Multitasking had never been a problem for Aaron, and he swallowed everything Michael gave him while bringing himself off with fast, hard strokes. The air between them, thick with their combined scents, made his head swim and his wolf want to howl with pride. When he felt the telltale ache in his teeth, Aaron let Michael’s dick slip from his mouth and sat back on his heels. As he tumbled over the edge, his control faltered, and his fangs slid out—the pain immediate and sharp, but only adding to the pleasure coursing through him. Tipping his head back, he cried out as he came, lost for a moment, the world around him a blur until the feel of fingers in his hair brought him back.
He glanced up to see Michael staring at him, his expression a strange combination of sated and worried. Licking his lips, his tongue caught on the sharp edges of his fangs, and Aaron realised what the issue was. Closing his eyes, he willed them away and met Michael’s gaze again with a lazy smile. “See?” He licked his lips again to prove his point. “Gone.”
Taking Aaron’s hand, ignoring the mess he’d made of himself and the floor, Michael cupped his cheek and offered Aaron a grim smile. “Your teeth weren’t the problem.” Gently, he turned Aaron around so he faced the mirrors above the sinks.
“Then what?Oh shit.”
“Yeah.”
A bang on the door startled them both. “Hurry the fuck up. Mr Smith’s waiting.”
“Coming,” Aaron yelled back, and the fact he didn’t find that reply the least bit amusing, said it all.
Fucking hell, they were so shafted.
He stood and stared at his reflection—his unmarked, totally healed reflection—and ran a hand over his face. Gone was the cut on his cheek, the split lip, and all the developing bruises on his body. “Bollocks.”
“What the fuck are we going to do?” Michael hissed, his tone laced with panic. “If you go out there like that, they’ll—”
“I know.”
