Deadly Coincidence (Brantley Walker: Off the Books Book 4)

by Nicole Edwards

  “Fuck,” Brantley bit out, urging Charlie back down the stairs. They were sitting ducks out here in the open.

  Stealth no longer a concern, the three of them hightailed it back to the main floor, taking cover—pathetic as it was—behind a row of blue plastic barrels.

  “Any suggestions on what to do now?” Reese snapped, gun aimed at the second floor.

  Brantley glanced around, looking for options. That had been their best chance of getting to the men without being seen or heard. Now that they knew they were here, Brantley feared Marcus was going to do something stupid.

  “You better have my goddamn money!” Marcus shouted. “Otherwise, I kill this idiot.”

  “You don’t want to hurt him, Marcus. He’s leverage,” Charlie called out.

  Nice thinking.

  Brantley glanced over, nodded for her to continue.

  “He’s your ticket out of here,” she added. “Our job is to get him home safely. Only you can help us do that. Which means you hold all the cards.”

  “I do, don’t I?” he shouted back, sounding relieved.

  “Keep him talkin’,” Brantley told Charlie, motioning for Reese to move with him.

  While they shouted back and forth, Brantley moved to the staircase at the other end of the building. It took longer than he would’ve preferred but moving slowly was necessary. The second floor had a direct line of sight to the area, which meant they were open and exposed if Marcus decided to open fire.

  They stuck to the shadows until they reached their destination, then paused to come up with a plan.

  Marcus was in the process of shouting a list of demands when suddenly he stopped.

  Well, hell. That whole this is too easy bullshit just went right out the window.

  Brantley had enough time to look up and realize they’d been spotted. A second later, a shot rang out, sending both of them diving for cover. As he was about to crouch behind a concrete pylon, a blaze of heat speared his right shoulder, the impact powerful enough to have him pitching forward, a foot shy of being clear.

  Another shot hit a foot from his head, then another a few inches to the left of that.

  Brantley gritted his teeth, fought the blinding pain, and tried to lever himself behind the protective barrier. Any second, one of these bullets was going to hit its mark—

  Three rapid-fire shots echoed in the space, followed by complete silence and a ringing in Brantley’s ears.

  Brantley looked over, saw Reese standing out in the open, his gun aimed at the second floor. He’d broken cover to save Brantley’s life.

  “Dante?” Reese shouted.

  “I’m here!” came the response. “You killed him! He’s dead!”

  Brantley waited until Reese looked his way. It was then he saw the fear in his eyes, knew Reese had thought he’d gone down for good, so he’d taken out the shooter.

  “I’m all right,” he assured the man. “Flesh wound.”

  Another eye roll from Reese.

  “Charlie, call an ambulance,” Reese ground out, still looking directly at Brantley. “You stay there. I’m gonna lock it down up there.”

  Because he could tell Reese was still on edge, perhaps a little brittle, Brantley could do nothing but nod in agreement, pushing himself up with his good arm. He took a seat on the bottom step while Reese pounded up to the second floor.

  “You’re shot,” Charlie snapped when she joined him.

  “Flesh wound,” he told her. He hadn’t confirmed that with his eyes, but based on his experience with bullets slamming into his flesh, this one was minor.

  “Shooter down!” Reese called out from the second floor. “Scene secure.”

  Brantley looked at Charlie, grinned. “Damn good end to the first day of the year, huh?”

  The look on her face said she thought he’d lost his damn mind.

  He couldn’t help but grin.

  That grin didn’t last too long, though. It died shortly after Reese insisted that Brantley go to the hospital to have his bullet wound treated. He’d argued but ended up overruled. Both Charlie and the EMT had agreed with Reese, and in an effort to avoid an ensuing argument, he had reluctantly climbed into the ambulance.

  Now, two hours later, he was waiting for Reese to return to the house. After he’d gotten a handful of stitches, he’d been released, practically as good as new. At Reese’s insistence, he had come home—via an Uber—only to find himself in a perpetual state of waiting.

  Not easy considering the only thing he’d been able to think about for the past couple of hours was finding somewhere private where he could strip Reese bare and have his wicked way with him, and moving was the only way he knew to deal with the adrenaline.

  Sure, sex with Reese was probably an inappropriate train of thought while having a bullet wound stitched, but it was all he could do to keep from running out of the hospital. He despised the place, the overwhelming smell of antiseptic, knowing the sick and dying were behind closed doors. In order to avoid going postal, Brantley had allowed his Reese-fueled fantasies to play out in his head.

  Good thing Reese proved to be a damn fine mental distraction when he needed one. Then again, Reese was a damn fine distraction all the time. Brantley would say he thought about Reese a good ninety-five percent of the day. Longer when he had nothing to do. Thankfully, those times were few and far between because Brantley wasn’t good at being idle.

  The sound of tires on gravel had him strolling to the front window and peering out, watching as Brantley’s Chevy came pulling down the dirt drive, Reese behind the wheel. Planting his hands on his hips, he stared out, waiting for that moment when he would see Reese for the first time after they’d been apart. He wasn’t sure what it was about the man that kept him riveted, but Brantley had been awestruck since day one.

  And there he was. All six feet five inches of grade A prime male. It sometimes surprised him that it was still a shock when he saw Reese. There was something about him—perhaps it was everything—that tripped him up and made him ache for things he’d never ached for before. He’d experienced it the first moment he’d laid eyes on Reese and every day thereafter. Reese had changed him in so many ways, brought out a side of Brantley he hadn’t realized existed. And yes, the man he loved had tested his patience a few times, but it was so fucking worth it.

  Speaking of patience…

  Brantley remained where he was, continuing to stare out even as Reese made his way up to the door. When the door opened, Tesha came lumbering over, tail wagging as she greeted Reese. Brantley allowed Reese to give her the requisite pat on the head, scratch behind the ears, but then when Tesha trotted off to find her bone, he was on Reese. Hell, he didn’t even give him time to shut the front door before he was slamming him up against the wall, lips colliding.

  “You’re injured,” Reese growled.

  Brantley didn’t stop kissing him, taking what he wanted. “Good as new,” he mumbled as he plundered Reese’s mouth.

  Reese grunted, but his hands gripped Brantley’s hips firmly, holding him in place as their tongues mated.

  Oh, yeah. Just what he’d needed.

  The kiss ignited into a firestorm right there in the entryway. It was a wonder their clothes didn’t disintegrate from the heat they generated.

  “Christ Almighty, you taste good,” he whispered against Reese’s mouth.

  It was that familiar taste of peppermint—inspired by Reese’s addiction to Altoids—and man that revved his engine even more.

  “Great minds…” Brantley groaned when Reese flipped the button on Brantley’s jeans open.

  The zipper followed and Brantley’s lungs seized up as an overwhelming pleasure mixed with his ever-increasing adrenaline.

  “Been thinkin’ ’bout this all day,” Reese breathed against his mouth, continuing to work Brantley’s jeans open.

  The heat of his hand against his lower stomach had Brantley sucking in a breath, his cock pounding in earnest, all the blood in his body making a detour south. The
anticipation built, his nerves growing more chaotic as he waited not so patiently for that moment when Reese would touch him.

  But then Reese moaned in his mouth and Brantley nearly lost it.

  “Don’t. Move,” he warned Reese before the man could get his hand around his aching cock.

  “Your shoulder hurt?”

  Brantley shook his head. This definitely wasn’t pain he was feeling.

  Reese’s fingers brushed against the sensitive head of his dick, but he stopped pursuing, which gave Brantley a moment to rein himself in.

  They were both breathing hard when Brantley nipped Reese’s lower lip, bringing their hips together.

  “You get me too worked up.” He panted, tightening the metaphorical leash on his control. “Don’t wanna come.”

  Well, he did. Just not yet.

  Good thing he knew of a way to distract himself.

  It was his turn to do the unbuckling and unzipping, freeing Reese’s cock before stepping back so he could watch as he took the man’s steel-hard length in his hand.

  A guttural moan escaped Reese as he stared down between them, the sound vibrating straight through Brantley.

  The guy had a phenomenal cock. Thick and heavy, the shaft curved slightly to the left, with a wide head and an intricate design of veins running along the length. At the moment, it was a dark purple thanks to the blood flowing through it, and the sight made Brantley’s mouth water.

  Continuing to admire, Brantley stroked Reese firmly. Up, down. Up, down. Slow and easy, enjoying the way the thick head peeked out of his fist, glistening with pre-cum.

  The more he worked him, the more Reese panted, letting the wall hold him up.

  Brantley leaned in, trapping Reese’s cock between them as he sucked on Reese’s lower lip.

  “You like that?” He nipped him, continuing to stroke, wrenching his wrist, running his thumb over the head, then teasing the sensitive spot just below.

  The only response he got was a grunt when Reese bucked his hips.

  “You do. You wanna come in my hand, don’t you?” Brantley kissed him, licking the inside of his mouth, tongue lapping at tongue, keeping the pace with his stroking.

  “Want…” Reese licked Brantley’s lower lip, groaned. “To … oh, fuck…” His head fell back against the wall, his hips pumping faster.

  “Tell me, baby,” Brantley whispered. “Tell me what you want.”

  “Want to ride your cock.”

  Those words went straight through him, making his cock kick in his jeans and his hand to still momentarily.

  Fucking hell.

  He never knew what to expect from Reese, but he was certainly never disappointed.

  He managed to resume his steady pace rather than race to a flat surface, leaning down and licking Reese’s neck. “Let me get this straight.” He nipped his ear lobe. “You want to sit on my cock?”

  Reese nodded.

  “And ride me—”

  “Like a bull,” Reese inserted.

  “—until I come deep inside you?”

  “Fuck, yes.”

  Brantley felt Reese’s cock swell in his hand.

  “What’re you waitin’ for?” he challenged, nipping Reese’s jaw.

  It took effort, but Brantley managed to step back, reluctantly releasing Reese so they could head to the bedroom. He was all for getting down and dirty anywhere in the house, but for this, a bed would do nicely.

  There was no hesitation on either of their parts once they were in the room. While hands and mouths continued to roam, clothing began to fall away until Reese’s warm body was pressed perfectly against him.

  The fall into bed took no time at all, and then Brantley found himself pressed into the mattress by Reese’s weight.

  He loved this part, when he was awash with sensation. Every single inch of him was aware of Reese. From his smooth, firm lips to his calloused hands, the crisp hair on his legs. Brantley had never paid much attention to those things. For most of his adult life, an orgasm had been the end goal. Relief until the next time the urge overcame him. With Reese, it was about the journey. Getting there was as important as the grand finale.

  Because he knew Reese had ventured out of his comfort zone with his request, Brantley figured he could ease him into it. No doubt about it, the thought of Reese looming over him, riding his cock was something he’d fantasized about. Many, many times. But when it came to their lovemaking, Brantley let Reese set the pace, make the suggestions.

  Oh, sure, eventually they would be on the same page, and Brantley would have free rein to give and take exactly what he wanted, but he wasn’t willing to rush things. Being that he was the only man Reese had ever been with, he was sensitive to Reese’s hesitation.

  Sliding his hands down Reese’s sides, he skimmed his fingers over all the hard muscle and warm skin, over his hip bones, then changing direction and pausing to squeeze the firm globes of Reese’s ass as he ground his hips upward, their cocks aligned almost perfectly. It would’ve been so damn easy to simply dry hump him to completion—something they enjoyed on occasion—but Reese’s request had Brantley holding off.

  He let his hands trail down to the backs of Reese’s thighs, then urged Reese to bend his knees until he was straddling Brantley’s hips. His adrenaline was spiking once again, his body and mind already anticipating the hedonistic pleasure he would be shrouded in momentarily.

  Luckily, Reese was as eager as he was. The next thing Brantley knew, Reese was sitting astride him, the lube in his hand as he began generously coating Brantley’s cock while they both watched. Sensations assaulted him as that wicked hand stroked firmly, gliding effortlessly up and down, over and over.

  Unable to help himself, he reached for Reese’s cock, stroking lightly, ensuring he remained right there on the precipice along with him.

  Brantley was pumping his hips before he realized Reese was looking at the bandaged wound on his shoulder.

  “It’s fine,” he assured him. “I’m lettin’ you do all the work.”

  Reese’s gaze moved to his face.

  “But if you keep that up,” he warned, “I’ll come in your hand. I don’t care.”

  Reese grinned, those wonderful fingers prying open, releasing him.

  When Reese leaned down, Brantley slid his hand behind Reese’s neck, urging his mouth closer.

  Damn, but he loved Reese’s mouth.

  “Never done this before,” Reese whispered, his breath fanning Brantley’s lips.

  “I know.” Brantley nipped Reese’s chin. “And I fuckin’ love that I’m your only.”

  And boy did he. Brantley had never known a high quite as great as knowing the man he was with had never been with another man before. Every single one of their experiences was new for Reese. In turn, it made it all the hotter.

  When their mouths fused once more, Brantley took over. He shifted lower while jerking Reese’s hips to nudge him up his body. Then finally, he was right where Brantley needed him to be.

  “Put your hands beside my head,” he said when their lips parted. “And lift your hips.”

  The position allowed Brantley to see Reese’s face, which was exactly what he wanted.

  With a firm grip on his cock, he guided Reese with a hand on his hip.

  “Sit on me, baby,” he groaned when the head of his dick pressed against Reese’s puckered hole.

  Time became nonexistent as Reese eased downward, that tight ring of muscle stretching to take him fully. Brantley never looked away from Reese’s face as their bodies joined intimately.

  Fucking perfection. That was what this was. With Reese, it was both heaven and hell. So fucking good it was damn near painful.

  His cockhead finally breached the tight ring of muscles, and he held firm, pushing inside the blistering heat of Reese’s body. His breath lodged in his throat momentarily as the pleasure consumed him.

  When Reese’s eyes squeezed shut, Brantley ran his hand down his thigh. “Slow. I want you to take all of me.”
<
br />   And then he did.

  Reese’s body enveloped him, wicked heat sending shards of electricity lighting up his spine. He focused on breathing while Reese shifted forward, rocked back. Once, twice.

  Then Reese settled into a rhythm that had the hair on Brantley’s arms standing on end, the sensations overwhelming.

  “Good?”

  He smiled up at Reese, still watching him. “Better than good. Fuck me. Take exactly what you need.”

  When he did, when Reese began rocking forward and back, taking his cock to the hilt, Brantley had to clamp his teeth together to keep from coming.

  He knew it wasn’t merely physical, their joining. And that was what made it so intense. They weren’t only two bodies coming together. This was more. So very much more.

  Minutes ticked by as Reese rode him. All the while, Brantley let his hands roam over Reese. Up his thighs, over his stomach, higher. He pinched Reese’s nipples, grazed his cock with a brush of his hand. He wanted to push him higher than he’d ever been before.

  “Oh, fuck,” Reese ground out, slamming his hips down before rocking forward, slamming down again. “More.”

  “Two choices,” he said with a smirk.

  Reese’s eyes narrowed.

  “You can jerk your cock while I fuck you. Or I’ll jerk you and you can fuck yourself on my cock. Your choice.”

  Reese reached between his legs, gripped his cock with one hand, and leaned forward, propping himself on the other. “Fuck me.”

  Brantley did.

  He bent his knees, dug his fingertips into Reese’s hips, holding him still while he drove his hips up from underneath, fucking him hard and deep, faster and faster, he drove them both toward release. It didn’t take long before he was emerging on the crest, gearing up to soar over the edge, but he somehow managed to hold off until Reese shouted his name.

  The feel of Reese’s cum spurting over his belly and chest was the trigger. He drove up, at the same time pulling Reese’s hips down, and came with a guttural roar.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Saturday, January 2, 2021

  The following morning, wearing clothes she had borrowed from Baz’s father’s guesthouse, JJ walked the halls of the hospital.