Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Finally, I forced myself to set the book aside, pulled Travis against me, and held him tight. When I woke the next morning, his body was still pressed against mine. I breathed in deeply, enjoying the warm musky scent of him.
Travis stirred and wriggled against me. I clasped my hand tight on his hip, stilling him. “Unless you want to be worn out before you even get out of bed, you need to stop that.”
Travis wriggled again, more purposefully this time. “What if I would like that very much?”
I wrapped my arm around his body, pinning him against me. “I’ll give you what you want, but I’m guessing you haven’t got long before you’re expected at work.”
He fought my hold until he managed to turn over to face me. “I’ve got long enough.”
“And if Beau comes looking for you?” I asked, brushing my hand through his hair.
He groaned. “Dammit. Why are you being so fucking sensible? I thought you told me you had very little self-control.”
I rolled him onto his back and pinned him down, holding his wrists above his head in one hand while I reached between us and grasped both our cocks. “You want to see me lose control?”
He gasped and arched into my touch.
“I can show you that, but if I do, you won’t be fit for work today, and we’re going to visit Ambrose later. That’s a long, rough ride deep into the bayou. I’d hate to make it even harder on you.”
He glared at me. “Would you really?”
I laughed. “No.”
He sighed and tried to buck me off. “You win. Let’s get some breakfast.”
“Believe me, nothing about holding myself back with you is a win.”
When we reached the shop, Lancelot was there waiting for me. “Remy thought I should ride along on your morning assignment.”
I shook my head. “I don’t need any help. You can stay here and keep watch over Travis and everyone else.”
Lance shook his head. “I’ve pissed off Remy enough lately, and he’s right. You’re too close to this.”
“I can do my fucking job.”
“Come on, Dax. I’ve helped you with your job plenty of times. You’re going to need somebody there to hold you back.”
“We’re ending this fucker. There’s no holding back.”
“Every detail we can get about the location of the handoff could help us.”
“I got information yesterday, and I’ll get more today. If I was going to flip out and kill him, I would’ve done it before I ever called for cleanup help.”
“I get the impression your situation may have changed since then.”
I shook my head. “My situation changed long before that.”
Lance clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Let me be there with you.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
“When it comes to the men we love, we all do.”
“I…”
“Don’t even try to deny it.”
“Corbin needs to learn to keep his fucking mouth shut.”
Lance grinned. “Possibly.”
I snarled at him. “Wait right here.”
Travis was working on a car in one of the bays, but I headed right over to him and pulled him to me, not carrying that grease smeared onto my clothes. “Don’t you dare leave the shop. I want you near Beau or Corbin at all times.”
“I’ve got work to do. I’ll be right here.”
“You damn well better be. When I get back, we’re going on a road trip.”
“I’m supposed to work until five.”
“Exceptions are made when your life is in danger.”
“Beau’s got a full schedule today, and—”
“We’ll work it out.”
“You’re going to see Jean-Charles again, aren’t you?”
“I am, but you don’t need to worry about that. He will never bother you again.”
“Okay.” I started to walk off, but Travis grabbed me for a brief kiss. “Be careful anyway.”
“Always.”
It was a short drive to the place near the docks where we often held people for interrogation. We needed a location where no one asked questions because sometimes our prisoners got noisy, and we like to keep them on ice as long as we could. A waiting game was often the best way to get information.
I felt Lance’s presence behind me as I unlocked the door of the cell where Jean-Charles was being held.
Our prisoner was slumped on the far wall. The cell stank of piss and the copper tang of blood. One of Jean-Charles’s eyes was swollen shut, and he had cuts and bruises on his neck and chest. He was naked from the waist up but still wearing his pants even though they’d been soiled when I worked him over yesterday. “You ready to talk some more, or do you want another round?”
“Let me go. I swear I’ll make it worth your while.”
I laughed. “You know that’s not going to happen. The best deal you’ll get is a quick death.”
“Believe me,” Lance said, stepping into the cell. “From him, that is mercy. I’ve seen him drag a good torture session out for days, weeks even, constant torment, no food, just enough water to keep the prisoner alive long enough to suffer.”