Page 52 of Laken's longing

He giggled, remembering he was supposed to be answering a question. “Nah, coffee will keep me awake all night.” Back was the cheeky grin. “Unless, of course, we aren’t planning on sleeping?” he asked hopefully, batting his eyelashes.

“Gods, Isley,” Laken ground out.

He wasn’t sure if he puckered up or if Laken did, but he moaned at the thrill of the hot, greedy mouth and the questing tongue he sucked right into his mouth. Laken’s taste was aforbidden fruit. It tantalised moan after moan from him as he took what he wanted. Each taste, each kiss sending sensations of throbbing need through him. His entire body pulsed with the desire to get closer until there was nothing between them. He fought to free his hands from Laken’s grip.

“Wanna touch you,” he gasped, trying to work his body closer until he felt the brush of soft cashmere against his bare chest, his nipples hardening to taut nubs. Each brush brought with it a sensual torment that drove Isley wild. His inhibitions around this man were non-existent. His hips rocked against a hard thigh to give himself some relief.

He chased after Laken’s mouth when he stopped kissing him, despite Isley’s own need to breathe. Air? Who needed that pesky stuff when he could be kissing Laken.

“Don’t stop,” he begged. His leaking dick smearing his boxer briefs agreed wholeheartedly.

“Isley, you’ve drunk—”

“Any your point is?” he demanded, his eyes narrowing right before he tugged his arms free then launched himself, using his animal side to get the boost up, to wrap his nimble legs around Laken’s waist and get some more friction for his aching dick. The hard muscle beneath Laken’s clothes would do nicely. “Thank you, muscle gods.”

Laken’s laughter stopped him, it was deep and masculine. It was a delightful noise he’d never heard directed at him. Isley was instantly enthralled by it.

“You’re laughing,” he chortled gleefully. “You sound happy ‘cause of me.”

Isley's hands slipped under the sweater, pushing it up out of the way, using his legs to keep him from falling back to the ground and landing on his butt. He pressed his cheek to Laken’s hot chest to listen, his eyes drifting shut, inhaling his intoxicating scent.

“You make me happy, too,” he stated, slurring each word before he slumped into unconsciousness.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Derick

Derick inhaled and exhaled slowly as he swiped at the screen of the encrypted phone that Oakland had given him for occasions such as this.

“Update,” he demanded. There was no need for pleasantries. Oakland was the only one outside of Lane who knew the lengths he’d gone to—would go to—protecting his family. The measures he’d put in place to keep his boys safe from threats—or so he’d thought.

He’d failed once before and now he had again, and it was a bitter pill to swallow. Oakland was shouldering the blame for believing the scumbag, who they’d found hocking pictures of Laken for fifty bucks a pop on the dark web all those years ago, when he said he’d handed them all over. How Oakland had found the scumbag, Derick hadn’t asked. Oakland’s background searches unearthed things that continued to amaze Derick, even after the twenty years of working together.

The team of men Oakland had amassed over those years weren’t all combat fighters. Some had come through other channels, murky channels that Derick didn’t question. Nor did he question the cost of those specialist services when it got the results he wanted. Any price was worth paying to protect what he loved.

“We have the situation contained.”

Derick pinched the bridge of his burning nose in relief.

“I need to come. Assess.” He kept his replies as cryptic as Oakland.

“Expected. I have Brooklyn on his way to you now. He will be with you within the hour.”

The call ended with a suddenness that Derick was used to.

“Have they found them?” Lane slipped his arms around his waist from behind and laid his cheek against his rigid back muscles. It amazed him that Lane could, and often did, get past his innate defences and creep up on him.

But that wasn’t what was on his mind when Lane’s fear came through in the tenseness of his body and the quiver in his voice. It ate at Derick’s heart that he could do nothing to prevent it. It had always been the same from the first moment they’d met.

“Yes.” He placed his hands over Lane’s and held them tightly. “Brooklyn is on his way to collect me.”

He felt the second Lane stiffened and was prepared for the argument.

Lane slipped free and spun Derick around—he was much stronger than anyone ever gave him credit for—fear and temper sparking in his beautiful eyes.

“No, I don’t want you getting mixed up in this. You said Oakland was the best person to deal with this. So let him.”

Derick shook his head sadly, reaching to cup his husband's neck, holding his gaze. “You know that’s not how it works. I need to see for myself that the threat is neutralized properly thistime.” He kissed Lane’s trembling lips, resting their foreheads together. “I swear, I won’t do anything that puts me in harm's way.”