“I have one?” Cade asked. “Or I am one?”
“Yes.”
Cade narrowed those bright eyes for a moment, and then he laughed. It was a low, rich,warmsound that rubbed against Marlow’s skin. He kissed Marlow’s throat, a slow, wet caress of tongue and lips, and admitted, “Fair enough.”
Marlow grabbed a handful of thick blond hair—it was probably going to be expensively trimmed as soon as the moon waned, so Marlow was going to enjoy the good grip while he could—and pulled Cade’s head up. He grinned at the flash of annoyance that pressed Cade’s full mouth together, a harsh comment almost visibly pinned back between his teeth.
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” Marlow pointed out.
Cade raised his eyebrows. “That I am one?” he repeated dryly. “Or that I have one?”
“Yes,” Marlow said again. He sounded raw. Honest.
He’d never been smooth. Never needed to be when he had a badge and a uniform with TAC stretched over his shoulders. This time, though, he’d apparently got it right. Hunger flashed over Cade’s face—a glimpse of the wolf through human skin—and he pushed Marlow up against the far wall. The tiles were cold against his back, hard against bony shoulder blades, and Marlow tightened his fingers around the fistful of Cade’s hair out of instinct.
Control. That was how he’d been trained. Always stay in control of a situation, don’t let anyone else direct the outcome, always be the one in charge—or you’ll end up dead. Hard habits to break—whether on the job or not.
Marlow held on for a moment—Cade’s head tilted back against the restraint and the muscles in his neck corded with the strain—and then let go. Cade flashed a quick grin—wolfish even when his teeth weren’t sharpened—and then it was gone as he claimed Marlow’s mouth.
After that, neither of them did much talking.
It was the sort of kiss that didn’t leave room for air, never mind words. All teeth and tongue and chewed-open lips. The sort of kiss that left exactly what you’d been up to written all over tender mouths and stubble-scraped cheeks. Marlow twisted one hand in the collar of Cade’s expensive shirt and grabbed a handful of his ass with the other.
For the record, it felt as good as it had looked in the elevator. The memory of the crisscrossed scars made Marlow’s fingers twitch as if he could feel them through the fabric, but he brushed that away. Scars like that you didn’t ask about unless you had good reason. They weren’t like Marlow’s—uncomplicated as a spray of bullet holes got—and whoever wore them was the one who chose when to bring them up. It wasn’t easy to scar a wolf, and it was never an accident.
Definitely not something to bring up during a restroom hookup.
Marlow got a firmer grip on the taut curve of Cade’s backside instead and pulled him closer. His cock throbbed in dull counterpart to the eager ache in his balls as Cade scruffed the back of Marlow’s neck with one hand and explored the long, tight muscles of his back with the other. The hard jut of his cock nudged insistently against Marlow’s hip as they pressed together.
The kiss had slowed to something less desperate, more deliberate. Marlow leaned into it for a moment as he chased Cade’s breath over his tongue to taste it. Then he pulled away and looked down as he tugged at the buttons on Cade’s trousers.
“Fuck,” Cade groaned, his voice caught low and raspy in his throat.
He dragged his shirt up over his head and off in an impatient, awkward tangle of arms and fabric. Marlow glanced up, and the broad spread of tanned chest nearly made him forget what he was doing. It wasn’t fair. After you’d seen someone naked once, by rights, it should lose some impact.
Apparently not.
Marlow got his mind back to the task in hand and finished undoing Cade’s trousers. He bit his lip, his mouth dry with expectation, as he started to push them down. His fingers slid over taut, silky-smooth skin and solid muscle that twitched under his fingers as they got closer to—
Someone hammered on the door until it rattled in the frame.
Marlow jumped so hard he cracked his head on the tiles and reached out to slam his hand against the door. Just in case the latch didn’t hold. His heart battered against his ribs, the sour hit of adrenaline a buzz in his veins.
“What?” he snapped.
“Something you might wanna see on the TV,” Bennett said, her voice conversational for someone on the other side of a locked door. There was a pause, and then she added with a dry edge to her voice, “Both of you.”
She gave the door one last thump. Marlow felt the vibration in the bones of his hand.
“And it’s meant to piss in,” she said. “Some of us don’t go in the woods.”
The sound of her boot heels against tiles tracked her departure as she stomped off. Marlow, still awkwardly twisted as he held the door shut, looked up the few inches at Cade.
“Rain check?” he asked.
Cade closed his eyes and swallowed hard; frustration pulled tight along his jaw. After a moment, he opened his eyes and pulled up a thin smile from somewhere.
“The mood’s kind of gone,” he agreed dryly. He dropped a quick kiss on Marlow’s mouth that turned into a bite. It was hard enough to sting. When Cade drew away, Marlow tasted blood on his tongue.
