“I did keep my boxer briefs—”
“I can tell.” Reece moved his thigh again, adding some purposeful pressure against the hardening length under him, and Grayson groaned again. “Trying to be a gentleman? Because that’s cute, but really, I am all for you handling me asun-gentlemanly as possible.”
“Did you already forget your little tumble in the snow?” Grayson’s hands were still distractingly low on his back, especially now that Reece had clocked there were no barriers between him and those hands. “Your clothes were soaked through. I found you cold as ice when I woke up. So what I was trying to do was keep you from dying of hypothermia—”
“Back up one fucking minute.” Reece paused his movements. “You passed out too?”
“We’re talking aboutyou—”
“Are you hurt?”
“—andyoursafety. Besides, I heal fast—”
“Not what I asked,” Reece said warningly. The glow of the snowy windows seemed slightly lighter than earlier, enough to see some of Grayson’s face, the high cheekbones, the outline of his brow and nose. “Answer my question.”
One of Grayson’s hands slid down to his ass, making Reece draw a sharp breath as sensation rocked through him. “Who’re you trying to boss around?”
Reece slid his hand around through the sleeping bag, brushing the slight ridge of the round bullet scar on Grayson’s shoulder. “I don’t like you getting hurt,” he said softly, dangerously, as he brought his thumb to rest on the delicate skin of Grayson’s lower lip. “I think I made that pretty clear tonight, but I’m happy to clear it up to the rest of Seattle if I have to.”
Grayson seemed to still, letting Reece trace his lip. “I got a couple bruises but nothing broken,” he finally said, sounding honest. “My body doesn’t appreciate being drugged, but it’s almost burned off.” He kissed Reece’s thumb. “That’s all.”
“Good.” Reece slid his hand to Grayson’s jaw, holding him in place as he brought their mouths together again, deep and firm. Grayson’s hand was still on his ass, his cock stiffening against Reece’s hip. “Make sure you know who you’re kissing,” he whispered against Grayson’s lips. “I am still not the helplesspacifist you took that bullet for. I’m the monster you’re protecting everyone else from. That’s not a lie, Evan; I believe it.”
“That right?” Grayson tightened his hold, so that Reece’s own hardening dick slid against the firm planes of Grayson’s stomach where it was trapped between their bodies. Pleasure ricocheted through him again, and a groan escaped him. “Why’d you turn the truck?”
Grayson moved him again, sending another bolt of pleasure through Reece, strong enough to make his kiss falter. “Evan—”
“I know you did. You could’ve let my side slam that tree, but you took the blow yourself.”
Reece groaned again into his mouth. “Shut up.”
“Why’d you come for me at all? Risk your own safety and freedom to pull me out of that lab?”
“I wouldneverhave left you with Nichols—”
“You traded your pacifism for my life.”
Reece stiffened. He broke the kiss, pulling back. “Who told you that?” he said sharply.
“Traynor,” Grayson said. “I was too arrogant to see the danger I was in, so you took care of it for me.” Reece could just make out the shape of those unreadable eyes. “And maybe I can’t feel grateful, or guilty, or anything else, but a monster wouldn’t’ve done all that you did.”
Reece tightened his jaw. “It doesn’t matter how corruption happened. I am what I am now.”
“Maybe,” said Grayson. “But I should’ve told you before, so I’ll tell you now: Any version of you is still worth that bullet.”
That stirred something in Reece’s chest, an emotion he absolutely was not going to look at more closely. “That’s just proof you’re also making questionable decisions,” he said gruffly, shifting so his hip brushed Grayson’s cock, drawing a sharp breath. “Like getting in this sleeping bag with me and letting me get used to your touch.”
He ground down against Grayson again, watching a flutter of lashes, drinking in the hitch in his breath. “Your knockout ability was the last Dead Man power you had against me. And you gave it up.”
Grayson’s whisper came, hoarse and strained. “Was I supposed to let you die?”
And then Reece was kissing him again. There were no emotions to sense, but he could feel the shifts of muscles, hear the soft sounds that escaped, could let Grayson’s body give the signals to guide his hands and mouth. He shoved one of his arms back into the sleeping bag, fingers gliding over the warm, bare skin of Grayson’s stomach. “Jesus, no gloves. Nothing between us.” He sounded hoarse to his own ears. He tried to slide his hand lower, making a noise of frustration when he couldn’t reach any further. “I need room to move; let’s get out of this sleeping bag.”
“The hell we will,” Grayson said. “It’s literally freezing. You were on the verge of hypothermia.”
“Was, past tense,” said Reece. “And counterpoint: I really want you to fuck me.”
Grayson’s breath hitched again. And suddenly he was twisting, not the awkward way Reece had tried to maneuver in the sleeping bag’s confines, but graceful and strong as he rolled them together onto their sides, Reece on the edge of the truck’s back seat but held by the curve of the sleeping bag with no risk of falling.
