Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
“Who is this…” Jason leaned in, eyes narrowing to slits as he examined the frozen grainy footage of our killer. “Who are you?”
Leaning back in my seat, I stretched out my legs, accidentally bumping against Jason’s. His office wasn’t big enough to fit both of us. This wasn’t the first time our legs had crossed in the cramped space, nor was it the first time Jason left his foot there, our legs touching at the ankles. I hooked my shoe around his calf. He looked up, the intensity in his gaze shifting as he looked into mine. He licked his lips. The shine of it caught my attention. I rubbed his leg under the table, squeezing mine together in a futile effort to relieve some of the building pressure.
“I missed this,” Jason said, surprising me. “Working together. We were a solid team.”
“Very solid,” I replied, my mind drifting to other things that happened to be solid. Rock solid.
“Remember that night we solved the Rosefire case?”
“I’ll never forget. We put that fucker behind bars, and we spent the rest of the week celebrating, every night, staying up together until morning. Doing it all over again.”
Jason’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. My mouth started to water, my pants growing tighter. I planted my foot on the ground and pushed his leg open, Jason allowing the move to happen. His pupils dilated, and his lips twitched. He cracked his knuckles and rolled his neck in a circle. A way to ease the tension and to give him time to think of what to say next. I could practically outline the gears whirring behind those bottomless hazel eyes of his, turning into a liquid molten as they were hit with a shaft of bright afternoon sunlight.
My entire leg pressed against his. My cock throbbed, pushing up against the rough fabric of my jeans.
Maybe not the best day to go commando.
Or maybe it’s the best. Our desks, even pressed together, weren’t large. I could cross the distance by leaning. I licked my lips, static sparking in the air. I was thrown back to the first night we kissed, sitting in my car after the gym, sweaty and breathy and fuuuuuck. I’d give anything to have that again. Jason lit up my world that day, and the lights had never gone off, always shining for him. Even when we went our separate ways, like a lighthouse, I felt myself always orientating toward him, hoping that one day…
I leaned across the desk, and Jason leaned, too, our bodies moving in sync, no words needed. There was an effortlessness in how we could read each other. His hand came to hold my hand, fingers sliding up over my ear, his other hand gripping the back of my neck.
I moaned. Couldn’t help it. I moaned loud, hoping that Jason’s mouth around mine was enough to drown it out. Jason smiled; I could feel his lips curling. Fuck, this felt so good. I’d been dreaming about this moment, left craving it after our last goodbye. I wanted to drink in every second, savor every taste. Jason’s tongue swirled, probed, pushed, pressed. I was able to swallow another moan before it tore through my throat and made our extracurricular activities clear to anyone outside our shut door.
“Matt,” Jason said during a break to catch our breath. He looked down at my lips, his nose brushing against mine. “We can’t… we have to talk.”
“We can talk later.”
And I claimed his mouth again, lips locking. We started to rise from our seats, my hands going for his shirt, his working on the buckle of my jeans. This was happening. It was finally fucking happening. If I were any more aroused, I think I would have—
My phone rang, the old-timey ringtone blasting through the room like a herd of trapped elephants. We jumped off each other, startled, my dick still hard and making a clear outline across the front of my jeans. Jason’s gaze dropped, eyes widening a moment. I throbbed for him, but I answered the phone while watching him be hypnotized by my bulge.
“Hi, this is Detective Hale. Sammy?”
I tapped on the Speaker button. A staticky voice filled the room, a young girl who sounded very rushed. “Hey, yeah, I got your message. I can talk. I have to go pick up an extra shift at the bar, but if you can get here now, I can give you a solid twenty minutes.”
Jason was practically drooling on himself. He leaned against the wall, his own length clearly visible against the light khakis he wore. More memories. Vivid, of our bodies fitting so perfectly together. All I wanted to do was dive back into those waters and never come back up for air. Jason was mine—he had been mine, slipping out of my grasp for reasons I still didn’t fully understand.