Page 87 of Black and Brown

Once the yellow powder extinguished all the flames, Grace dropped the heavy device to the floor and turned to face Mirage.

His partner was in a towel, his chest and arms littered with red splotches. Mirage’s expression was sullen and so apologetic that Grace’s first instinct was to wrap him in his arms.

“I know. I fucked up big-time, Grace. I’m so sorry. I’ll get it fixed, I promise.”

Grace didn’t say a word.

He stepped forward, took Mirage’s hands, and placed them on his shoulders. With a slight tilt of his lips, he pulled Mirage into a close embrace. It wasn’t long before the tension in his frame melted away, and he accepted the hug, wrapping his arms around Grace’s neck.

Mirage wove his hand through Grace’s wet hair and buried his face against his throat, a silent display of his disappointment.

“I wanted to make us breakfast,” Mirage whispered.

“I know,” Grace rumbled. “It’s okay. Things can be replaced. I can handle damage.” He pulled back and cupped Mirage’s cheek. “What I can’t handle is you being upset and thinking I’m mad at you.”

Not giving Mirage another chance to apologize, Grace let out a soft sigh, then leaned forward and touched Mirage’s soft lips with gentleness.

It went longer than he thought as he relished the feel of Mirage’s relief.

When they pulled apart, he rested their foreheads against one another.

“Forgive me,” Mirage asked with his eyes closed, pulling Grace closer.

“I will—” Grace moaned into Mirage’s smoke-scented hair. “—if you take me back to bed right now and bury your dick so deep in me that I forget this bullshit ever happened.”

Mirage

“Mmm, now that I can do.” Mirage nibbled the side of Grace’s jaw since it was one of his sensitive spots that drove him wild.

Mirage took Grace’s hand to leave the kitchen when danger prickled at the base of his neck.

Awareness struck as adrenaline surged through his veins.

Mirage caught a flicker of darkness in his peripheral just as Grace spun his body behind him.

Mirage instinctively grasped the cold steel of a chef’s knife out of the butcher’s block on the island and, without hesitation, shot it toward the balcony.

He threw it with exceptional speed, though time seemed to slow as the knife sliced through the air.

But the hooded man standing there had the reflexes of a cat. With a graceful motion, he extended his arm and caught the knife midflight.

A long moment sat suspended in time as the two men standing on the terrace exchanged knowing glances, their presence now undeniable.

Ex and Meridian stood shrouded in their black covers.

“How the fuck did you two get in here?” Mirage asked, stepping from behind Grace’s protection.

“The same way you would’ve. We climbed down.” Ex shrugged as he stepped inside with Meridian trailing behind him.

Mirage glanced at Grace, recognizing the deep frown lines.

Mirage nodded and asked the only question Grace wanted answered.

“What the fuck are the two of you doing here?”

They removed their hoods, glancing around the living room and then toward the kitchen.

“We’re a floor above you. We’d rather not burn alive.”