by Abigail Roux
Page 4
“What should I be practicing?” he goaded as he leaned to nip at Tys earlobe.
Ty shoved him back against the appliance, and the contents rocked inside it again. Something toppled over and clattered. Then Ty yanked him forward again, into the narrow kitchen. He hooked his foot behind Zanes leg and practically tackled him, sending them both to the floor. Ty used his weight to pin Zane to the bare hardwood as Zane gasped for air. He had Zanes wrists in his hands and was kissing him again, right there in the middle of the floor, and Zane could only whisper Tys name whenever their lips parted.
Zanes fingers splayed as Ty held his wrists against whatever force Zane tried to bring to bear, but he was well and truly caught. He whimpered against Tys lips, wordlessly begging for more as he pushed his hips against his lovers.
He could tell Tyd had a plan when hed started this, perhaps one devised to torture Zane just a little—well, hell, maybe a lot—at first. But now Ty seemed to have lost the more controlled feeling to him. He loosened his hands from around Zanes wrists and moved one to Zanes body to push the remains of his shirt aside and dip under his belt, sliding his rough fingers against Zanes sensitive skin. Zane groaned happily and shifted under Tys touch, and he reached for his belt buckle to loosen it.
Ty pushed up to give both their hands room to move, helping him with the belt as he continued to hold Zanes other wrist against the ground.
“Fuck, Zane,” he grumbled, finally letting Zanes other hand go and pushing himself to kneel over Zanes thighs. “Why are you always wearing so many clothes?”
“Oh, for Christs sake,” Zane muttered as he unfastened his pants and folded over the placket. “Am I supposed to strip down anytime I walk in now?” he asked as he sat up enough to pull the ruined dress shirt and thin undershirt over his head and toss them aside. “Or maybe Im just waiting for you to tell me what to do about it,” he prodded as he leaned back on his elbows, hoping it would push Ty back into action. Zane was hard and visibly straining his briefs. Ty in charge did that to him really damn quickly.
“With your track record, youll come in playing strippergram and Ill be in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner or something,” Ty grumbled. He leaned closer to Zane, putting his hands on the floor beside Zanes hips. “Shut up,” he added almost as an afterthought, his lips moving just inches away from Zanes. He was on his hands and knees again, still fully clothed even after bitching about Zanes unsatisfactory state of undress, and he looked down at Zane with narrowed eyes.
Zane looked at him innocently. “What? Do I have to come up with some more puns?” “You really have no concept of how close you are to not getting fucked, do you?” Ty asked darkly. Zane shut his mouth and watched Ty closely for clues. He didnt think hed pushed too much, but he could have miscalculated. “Thats what I thought,” Ty growled before roughly kissing Zane again, forcing him flat on the floor, actually sliding him on the hardwood with the force and barely giving him the chance to breathe as he practically devoured him.
Something inside Zane gave a pitifully grateful cry of thanks as he collapsed under Tys weight, not even caring that his shoulders and skull hit the floor hard. He was dizzy already, and all his nerve endings sparked whenever Ty touched him.
Zane craved this. He needed it, like he needed air. His reaction only spurred Ty on. Rough hands roamed over Zanes body. Hips ground down against him. Teeth scraped against Zanes lips and tongue and cheek and chin and neck. The days worth of stubble on Tys face was almost painful against Zanes skin, but Ty so rarely did this to him that Zane wasnt about to object. He wanted to be overwhelmed; it was a hell of a ride when Ty got it in his head to really drive them to another level.
Zane shuddered as it occurred to him that it really didnt seem like just sex anymore. It was more, more passionate, more emotional, more energizing, more draining… at that moment, he wasnt sure it had ever been just sex between them. He knew Ty loved him, and sometimes he could feel how badly Ty wanted him. Zane moaned and clutched at Ty. “Please,” he breathed.
Ty pushed away from him and quickly yanked his T-shirt over his head, revealing the impressive display of muscles Zane had become so familiar with. He tossed the shirt aside as he laid himself back out over Zane and kissed him hungrily, their bare skin catching and pulling as Ty moved.
Zane wrapped his arms around Ty, dragging his fingers down along his spine before spreading his hands and pressing them flat to slide them into the back of Tys sweatpants. Tys hand found its way into Zanes hair, one of Tys favorite handles when he wanted Zane to stay where he put him. His tongue lapped at Zanes, the kiss forceful and overpowering as Zane felt Tys muscles tense and flex against him. Feeling that remarkable, unbridled power against his body sent another shudder of need through him, and he felt almost smothered by the heat of it.
It was absolute heaven. “I meant to at least get us up the stairs,” Ty gasped with what was probably supposed to be sincerity as he used one hand to push at the sweatpants he wore.
“Fuck me here,” Zane begged hoarsely. Tys sigh came out harsh. He was obviously arrested by the idea for a brief moment because he stopped moving. Then he bit at Zanes lower lip, licking at it and delving into another breathless kiss. Zane could feel how hard Ty was as he rocked their hips together, could feel the arousal and need coursing through Tys tense body, like every ounce of him was coiled.
Zane wanted to feel that inside him so badly he could barely stay still. It was like this more and more often, feeling like he just couldnt breathe without Ty.
Ty yanked his head away suddenly, as if hed just heard Zanes thoughts and was offended by them. “Get up,” he practically snarled. Zane gasped for breath and reached out for help. Ty was pushing himself up almost immediately, and he reached down to grip Zanes forearm and haul him to his feet. He pulled Zane to him and kissed him brutally as he used one hand to push Zanes pants down over his hips. Zane moaned happily against Tys mouth as he toed out of his shoes and kicked his pants off while sliding a hand up to cup Tys face to encourage him. He had the distant thought that hed done an awesome job of planning this for a Friday. He was going to be scratched, bruised, and whisker-burned tomorrow.
Zane didnt give a shit. He tried to pull Ty closer as he gave under the onslaught of Tys mouth. Ty pushed him back until Zane hit the countertop, and he didnt stop, levering Zane off his feet as he insinuated himself between Zanes legs. Zane let Ty maneuver him, more interested in groping all the overheated skin and keeping Ty touching him than personal safety. He trusted Ty to keep him from falling. He turned his head and chin, angling for another kiss. He could feel his lips throbbing, already swollen from Tys ravaging kisses. It was intense and consuming, and Zane was hard-pressed to even remember where they were until Ty swept one hand out on the counter next to them, knocking everything there to the floor in a clatter of knickknacks, junk mail, silverware, and sandwiches. He boosted Zane up to sit on the bar, and Zane wrapped his long legs around Tys hips and shifted back on his elbows as Ty leaned over him. Ty seemed to have every intention of climbing onto the counter after him and fucking him senseless, but instead he jerked his head up suddenly from the trail of licks and bites hed been working on making down Zanes torso.
“Do you hear that?” he asked as he cocked his head.
“Huh?” Zane wasnt listening to a goddamn thing but the blood pounding in his ears and Tys harsh breathing. Ty looked up at him with a frown, turning his head like a dog trying to hear a strange noise. Then it reached Zanes ears too. Distant laughing, growing louder and louder. Soon it became recognizable as the cackling of the Wicked Witch from The Wizard of Oz.
“Fuck, what now?” Ty drew out as he looked toward the couch where hed tossed his phone. Zane closed his eyes as he let go of Ty, then reopened them to see the ceiling as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration. With a growl he thumped one fist on the countertop. “Dammit. Answer the damn thing so we can get back to this. ”
“You know who that is, right?” Ty asked breathlessly. Zane did. Hed heard that ring plenty of times. It always got laughs in the office when Dan McCoy called Ty and the Wicked Witch let her evil laughter loose through the office. “Its like he knows when Im going to get laid,” Ty began to grumble as he worked at extricating himself from Zanes limbs.
Zane stared at him for a few seconds as the fog of intense arousal started to clear, and then he groaned in pain as he let his arms slide down so he flopped to his back on the bar top. “I hate Mac sometimes,” he muttered.
“Let me get back to you on that. If hes calling us in, I might kill him,” Ty muttered. He pushed away from the counter, his hands sliding down Zanes thighs and away. He headed past the dining table for the couch.
“I wonder how much time well have,” Zane mused. Whether it would be sex or a blow job or hand job—or, God forbid, nothing— would all depend on what McCoy had to say.
“Son of a bitch,” Ty agreed emphatically. He got to the phone before it stopped ringing, and his voice was only slightly hoarse when he answered with his usual curt “Grady. ”
Zane glared up at the ceiling for another few seconds before carefully sitting up and maneuvering off the kitchen counter. He snorted. On the goddamn kitchen counter. Theyd never tried that one before, but he had certainly liked where Ty was going with it. He shook his head in mild disbelief as he got his feet on the floor and adjusted the fit of his briefs. He stood looking down at the sandwiches, unopened mail, pens, a key ring, and a pile of paper napkins strewn haphazardly across the floor and then crouched to rescue dinner as he heard Ty speak.
“Wait, what?” Ty asked with an obvious frown in his tone. “I never got any file. What courier?” Zane got the wrapped sandwiches back on the bar and glanced in Tys direction before starting to gather the clothing theyd shed. Once he untangled his dress shirt from the undershirt, he held it up to survey the damage. Ty had pretty much destroyed it: several of the buttons were gone, now underfoot, and the seams at the shoulders had literally been ripped apart. Hed obviously been very intent on getting Zane naked. Zane shivered and looked over at his lover. Ty hadnt even gotten around to taking off his sweats. Zane thought he would have fucked him with the damn things still around his thighs if theyd been able to get that far.
Zane dropped the clothes in a pile and walked over to Ty, sidling up behind him to wrap his arms around Tys waist and nuzzle just under his hairline. No reason to waste time he could spend touching. It would distract him from the fact that they, or even worse, just Ty, might be leaving, and the latter possibility made Zanes chest tighten uncomfortably. It had become more and more painful, being apart from Ty and not knowing where he was or whether he was safe or how long hed be gone. Not being able to watch his back. Ty hadnt been called on one of those jobs in a while, not since their ordeal with Tys family in West Virginia, but Zane still expected a call some random evening.
Zane suspected Ty had gone to Burns to opt out of the odd jobs, but hed never asked and never planned to. He still held his breath whenever Tys phone rang, day or night. Zane closed his eyes and rested his chin on Tys shoulder. He brushed his lips against the warm skin of Tys neck, and it made him think of the compass rose pendant hidden away at his apartment in the drawer with his T-shirts. He still hadnt found the right time to give it to Ty.
Ty reached his arm behind him to settle his hand on Zanes hip. “I dont understand,” Ty said to McCoy in a troubled voice. “No, Im not being intentionally dense! I just dont get why it has to be us!”
Zane moved one palm over Tys stomach and started to rub gently, trying to soothe him. After all, it was partly his fault Ty was so keyed up.
Ty turned, pursing his lips into a shushing gesture to tell Zane to be quiet, and then hit the speaker button. Their boss voice came out of the speaker and Dan McCoy was audibly annoyed. “…because this is supposed to be good PR, and we need to send agents that people will like. ”
Zane frowned and mouthed the word “like” to Ty with a questioning look.
Ty was silent for a moment, staring at the phone. “And were the best you got?” he asked, deadpan.
McCoy laughed. “People do like you, Ty. Youre a funny guy. And you know how the ladies like Garrett. ”
Zane opened his mouth to object, but Tys hand covered it before he got a sound of protest out.
“Granted,” Ty drew out, meeting Zanes eyes and smirking. “If we do this, what do we get out of it?”
“You get to keep your jobs, you worthless hack,” McCoy answered without any real heat in it.
Tys face was nearly expressionless as he held the phone up between them. “Yeah okay. ” Zane shook his head, giving Ty an obstinate look. He still didnt know what the hell this was all about, but he had the prickly feeling he wouldnt like it.
Ty turned away from him so he couldnt object again. “Look,” McCoy said, “Garrett gives a great lecture on cyber and criminal connections. Ive heard it and didnt even feel the need to shoot myself or him. With all the Internet crime lately, its a popular topic. And you have enough of a sense of humor to talk about undercover investigations without getting morbid or scary. I know its short notice, but theres going to be a whole series of these things—”
“A whole series?” Ty broke in, his voice going higher in distress. “Do you remember how many times youve said Im bad for PR?” McCoy sighed in disgust.
“Thirty-seven times, Mac. ”
“Youve counted?” McCoy asked without sounding surprised.
“Latent OCD,” Ty answered, unashamed. Zane pressed his mouth to the back of Tys shoulder to stifle the laugh that threatened. “All right, look, here it is straight. Youre both personable and competent, but the real kicker is that youre both pretty, and bottom line, its better to have eye candy in the newspaper than some nondescript drone. Be there at eight, best suit you own. And call Garrett and fill him in for me, will you?”
