Marlow snorted. “Don’t fish for compliments.”
A warm, broad hand slid along Marlow’s spine, from the small of his back to the nape of his neck. If Marlow were the cat that Bennett always called him, that would have rubbed his fur the wrong way. Instead, he stretched up into Cade’s touch as Cade scruffed him, thumb under Marlow’s ear and fingers tight against the tendons of his throat.
“Any to catch?” Cade asked, but he didn’t bother to wait for an answer. He rocked his hips forward and let his cock slide along the crack of Marlow’s ass. The heavy breadth of it, soft skin and the dull throb of a pulse, slid along the crevice and back again. Each thrust smeared the lube, runny and messy as it warmed against Marlow’s skin.
“Last chance for second thoughts,” Cade said, his voice precise with control. “I’m not going to be a better idea tomorrow.”
To be honest, Marlow didn’t want to think about tomorrow. Just today, just this exact moment. He wanted to concentrate on the dry humor that sparked gold in Cade’s eyes when he flirted—or whatever he wanted to call that—and the fact he still wanted to know what Cade tasted like.
“I mean, I thought we’d already established I was the bad idea right now,” Marlow said.
Cade tightened his grip on Marlow’s neck for a second, a flex of strong fingers. “Best idea I’ve had…” he said, then paused long enough that Marlow could almost hear the smirk that curled that stern mouth. “…today. Don’t say I didn’t give you an out.”
His cock was thicker than the fingers he’d already had in Marlow. It spread him wide—his ass hot and tender as it stretched around the thick shaft—as Cade rocked his hips in slow, patient strokes. Marlow took a quick, ragged breath and dropped his head down between his arms. He licked salty sweat off his lips as the muscles in his stomach and thighs tightened in reaction to the pressure.
Scattershot bolts of pleasure fired off along Marlow’s nerve endings, erratic pops of electric sensation that leapfrogged up his spine and tightened the still spit-damp buds of his nipples. He chewed his lower lip absently—impatiently—as he ached formore.
“I want you,” he said, his voice scratchy and rough as he pushed back against Cade. “I’m not going to break just because I won’t get a reset tonight.”
Cade laughed. It jostled his cock inside Marlow and dragged a groan out of him.
“Trust me,” Cade said. His hand shifted to spread over Marlow’s shoulder, across the scar where the bullet had punched in. He traced the slick edges of it with his thumb. “That’s not something I’m worried about.”
Marlow looked over his shoulder. Under the circumstances, it seemed a little dumb to be taken aback by Cade’s lean muscled beauty, but he was. Between the taut breadth of his chest and the clench of muscle in that sharply cut jaw, Cade made Marlow’s mouth go dry.
“So, what are you waiting for?” he asked.
It was, more or less, a genuine question. Cade growled at him, a low rumble of sound that reached into Marlow’s hindbrain and yanked a shudder raw and squirming up out of it. The hit of adrenaline that came with it would have been useful in the middle of a patrol, but right now just thickened his blood and stirred it up.
Cade tightened his grip on Marlow’s hip and then buried himself deeper in Marlow with one rough, eager thrust. For a second, nothing fit, and it still felt good, a dark, sweet wash of pleasure that he could almost taste. Marlow’s lungs squeezed tight around a gasp of air, and he slid forward on the bed, sheets rucked up around his knees. He reached out and braced his hand against the headboard, fingers dug into the padded fabric
“Fuck,” Cade muttered. That fractured to something softer in his carefully modulated voice when he stretched forward and pushed Marlow’s hair back from his face to stroke his cheek. “Are you—”
Marlow turned into the touch and pressed a damp, breathy kiss against the heel of Cade’s hand.
“Not complaining,” he said raggedly. “Don’t stop.”
Marlow groaned “Fuck” on an indrawn breath as Cade didn’t. Each thrust pushed Marlow forward, the muscles in his braced arm tight, and pulled him tighter. The web of pleasure had spread slow and sticky under his skin—tingled in his lips and nipples under Cade’s tongue—but now it contracted. His balls throbbed with hot pleasure as they pulled up tight to his body, and his cock was so hard it ached, that weird squirm of pleasure-pain you got from digging your thumb into a day-old bruise to see how deep it went.
After this was all over, Marlow swore to himself he was going to replace that damn silver bar with a stainless steel one. No one in the TAC team would be up close and personal enough with his genitals to tell the difference.
Cade pulled Marlow up so his back was pressed against Cade’s hard, sweat-slicked body. The sudden shift in position pressed Cade’s cock firmly against Marlow’s prostate, and the jolt of pleasure was so intense it made the muscles in his thighs turn to water. A low, raw mewl of a sound escaped Marlow’s throat as he dropped his head back against Cade’s shoulder. He chewed on his lower lip as he tried to catch his breath, the air ragged and tight in his throat.
“You know, maybe you’re not such a good idea either,” Cade said, his voice warm and velvety against Marlow’s ear, teeth sharp as he nipped at the lobe. He rolled his hips forward in a slow, controlled thrust that made Marlow arch his back and clutch blindly at Cade’s shoulder for support. “You ever think about that?”
The angular line of Cade’s jaw, sharp as if it had just been carved with a knife and banded with heavy, tight muscles, tempted Marlow too much to ignore. He scraped his teeth along the line of it, a hint of stubble rough against his lips.
“I’m Night Shift, and I’m TAC team,” Marlow pointed out. “I’m the last bad idea anyone has before they marry an accountant.”
Cade ducked his head down to slant a hard, eager kiss over Marlow’s mouth. “My accountant’s a lovely woman, but she’s not my type.”
“Once it was their car mechanic.”
Cade’s smile curved against Marlow’s mouth. “Oh, well, that’s different,” he said. “He’s actually hotter than you, and he makes good money.”
Marlow hiccuped out half a laugh, the rest tangled up in a groan as Cade thrust into him again. The muscles in his thighs flexed, and he felt the pressure build—heavy and liquid at the same time—and spread from his balls and up into his stomach.
“Glad he wasn’t free this afternoon, then,” Marlow managed to get out, words strung together by luck rather than attention. Every breath he took tasted of Cade: sweat and musk and a hint of woody cologne. Marlow slid his hand up and around to tangle his fingers in Cade’s expensively cropped curls. “Or I might have had to entertain myself.”
