Without another word, Hades strode past him and out the door, leaving him alone in the dimly lit lounge.
He eased his cell from his pocket and tapped the phone to life. “Hey. Can I come over?”
*
Alex snorted as Charlotte’s front door was flung open, Max stomping through her kitchen.
“Does he ever knock?” he whispered, tightening his arms around her when she moved to stand.
Max poked his head around the corner, a slice of cold pizza in hand. “I’ve knocked. Chuck and I figured I’ve knocked five times since we met. And I have a key because I’m her favorite.” He crossed the room and wedged himself between the pair, forcing Alex to release Charlotte before she was crushed. “What are we watching?”
Charlotte booted Max’s foot off her coffee table. “Alex and I are watching an old Kevin Smith. You, however, are leaving.”
Max glanced over at him. “You hear how she treats me? Mean, mean, mean.” He stuffed the last of the pizza in his mouth. “We’ve been put on mornings for the next two weeks to aid in the sweep of the park.”
“And you couldn’t text me?” Charlotte snarled, looking over to Alex apologetically. “I’m sorry my baggage has such poor manners and smells like teriyaki chicken.”
“Mean, I tell you,” Max reiterated as he stood. “Lost my phone somewhere on the trail. It must’ve flown off the dash on a corner.” He strode toward the open door. “If you plan on scoring tonight, do it quick. None of that drawn-out tantric bullshit. I’m picking you up in seven hours.”
She flopped back against the sofa and restarted the movie. “This is why I suggested we go to your place. A Max-free evening never happens around here.”
He pulled her back to him, happy when she grabbed a pillow and lay her head across his lap. “I’ll risk a run-in with Max if it means hanging out on your couch over mine.” He grinned, easing the elastic from her ponytail. “Comfort trumps convenience.”
She hummed in agreement, reaching behind them to grab a blanket. He tossed it over her and zoned out to the familiar soundtrack of one of his favorite films.
Their first attempt at a booty call was failing miserably.
The call had been placed, but it wasn’t the booty he needed.
He watched her in his peripheral vision as her nose wrinkled and she rolled her eyes at a crude line, echoing it under her breath subconsciously.
It was so normal.
As long as the voice mails he’d left for his brothers remained unreturned, he could almost pretend the two of them were a regular couple hanging out on the sofa after a long day.
Circumstances aside, she liked him. And that knowledge almost eliminated the sting of her words in the park earlier.
Some random guy with a short shelf life.
He didn’t want to be some random guy. But he was. And he could live with that as long as she continued to slap his knee every time a good scene came on screen.
Adding the booty to the call would rip this away.
Unwilling to end the hunt yet, he settled into the sofa and got comfortable, feigning sleep until the credits rolled and Charlotte sighed, covering him with a blanket before she disappeared into her bedroom.
Chapter Fifteen
The tavern door opened, a pair of gorgeous women stepping out into the heat of the late afternoon. Charlotte smiled at them, listening in as the women grumbled about the hot bartender who had shot down their offers for a night out.
Loosening her ponytail, she made her way into the lounge, rubbing her eyes when they refused to adapt quickly to the dim surroundings.
“Hey!” Alex called over, abandoning a tray of empty glasses on the counter.
She smirked as he sauntered across the floor to her. “Hey yourself, hunter,” she teased, a small jolt running through her when his large hand wrapped around hers. “You almost done?”
He led her through the kitchen doors. “Thomas wants to feed you while I finish up.” He gave her hand a quick squeeze before he disappeared back into the lounge.
“So this is why my bartender’s been watching the clock all afternoon.” Thomas grinned over the grill, pushing a stool toward her with one hand as he flipped a steak with the other. “Better order fast. I don’t think that boy wants his date held up by a burger patty.”
“I’ll just take a grilled cheese, please,” she requested, snagging a fry from a bowl. “Max stuffed me with microwaved bagels and eggs earlier.”
Sneering in exaggerated disgust, Thomas pulled a bag of bread off the shelf. “He was in last night with some new arm candy. Rude little thing. I can’t remember the last time Max ended a date before midnight.”
“I heard all about it.” She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Someday, Thomas. Someday, Max will find a good woman and settle down.”
Thomas glanced up from his careful cheese layering. “Alex did, so there’s hope for them all, I suppose.”
She snorted inelegantly. “Don’t get sappy,” she chastised, her eyes widening in appreciation as the elderly bar owner added an extra cheese slice. “We’re just having a little fun until Mr. Nomad gets antsy and hops a plane out of here.”
Thomas eased the sandwich onto the grill and flattened it with his spatula. “Sometimes even the most restless animals can be calmed with the right touch.” When she wrinkled her nose, he changed the topic. “Any leads on those deaths?”
“Nothing,” she said, snatching another fry. “Max and I have been pulling double shifts for three days, tromping around the western ridge, and all we have to show for it is sand-blasted boots and ugly tan lines.” She leaned forward to watch her sandwich. “I’ve barely had time to eat.”
Thomas shook his head, muttering under his breath as he walked into the large cooler at the back of the kitchen.
The past three days had been little more than a blur of sand, stones, and snubbed kibble, punctuated by late-night texts with Alex and early morning calls from Max. Her long days had been made bearable by her beast of a companion that tracked her down every shift for a quick petting before he made his way to the highest point of the terrain and stood watch. When the FBI joined her and Max on the ground, Butch remained tight to her side, his slack leash providing a modicum of comfort for the wary agents.
Alex poked his head into the kitchen. “Any chance you can throw a burger on for me?” he asked, smiling when Thomas grunted and tossed two patties on the grill.
“Go keep that boy company,” the older man ordered, pointing his spatula at her. “I’ll bring these out when they’re ready.”
She grabbed a handful of fries and hopped off her stool, saluting Thomas on her way through the door.
The lounge was quiet, three groups huddled around their tables talking quietly and drinking slowly. Alex rounded the bar, grabbing the pot of coffee and a mug. “Thomas chase you out here?”
She pulled up a stool and sat at the bar, a small jolt running through her body when he set a mug of coffee down for her and kissed her forehead. “Tossed me out here on my tail.” She smiled. “So I was thinking we could drive through the park quick and then head back to your place. Since I haven’t seen it when you haven’t had time to straighten up first.”
“You like to live dangerously.” He chuckled, leaving her to deliver a tray of drinks and returning with a credit card. “I could be up for that. Why the park?”
“I didn’t see Butch this morning. I want to check in on him and make sure he eats,” she replied as he ran the card and slipped the paid receipt into a cashier clip, tossing a pen on top. “Besides, I think you should meet him. He reads people well and I’m curious how he’ll react to you.”
*
Alex slowed the SUV as he took the corner of the narrow path. “He’s probably holed up somewhere for the night,” he suggested, unsure how much longer the hunt for Butch was going to last.
Not that he was complaining.
The hour they’d spent looping the park was the longest he’d spoken with Charlotte all week, and he
wasn’t anxious for it to come to an end.
She sighed and sat back in her seat, rolling up her window. “You’re right. Damn.” She smiled up at him lazily. “I was kind of hoping he’d nip at you like he has every other guy he’s met.”
“Every guy you’ve introduced him to is a dick,” he muttered, wrinkling his nose as he recalled the obnoxious cologne of the last two agents she had been assigned to assist. “Dogs love me. They recognize that I’m an alpha and they respect that.”
She elbowed him in the ribs before settling against his arm. “All right, Alpha-Man. Let’s head back to your place before someone recognizes me out here and they put me back to work.”
He sped up a fraction.
No way in hell was he going to risk losing one of her two days off. Not when he had company arriving any day.
He made it back to his place in record time, mentally running through the mess in his trailer and determining which areas needed to be dealt with.
All of it.
“That bad?”
He snapped out of his head. “What?”
She opened her door, grinning. “You’ve been staring at your front door for a minute with the most serious look on your face. Is it that bad?”
Surrendering his key to her, he got out of the SUV and followed her in. “It’s probably worse than I remember.”
He had barely had time to do more than strip down and shower for weeks. If he wasn’t working, he was monitoring the Pirithous or watching over Charlotte as she worked, keeping enough distance to remain out of the way of the stalled investigation, but close enough should anything be uncovered.
He was exhausted.
“This isn’t so bad,” she called over her shoulder, disappearing into his trailer. “A laundry hamper would do wonders for this place, though.” He pulled the door closed and locked it, cocking a brow as she tiptoed through the piles of discarded socks and jeans and began carefully lifting shirts off his bed. “I need to know something.”
He crossed his arms, his head dropping slightly in defense as a litany of potential questions flew through his mind. “What?”
“Before I even consider sleeping here tonight, when was the last time you washed these sheets?”
*
Charlotte bit her lip at Alex’s hesitation, his eyes darting to a small cabinet to the left of his bed. “I don’t want to know, do I?”
He shook his head and licked his lips. “I have another set, though.”
She plucked a T-shirt up and placed it in the makeshift pile beside her. “You’re probably going to want to find it,” she said casually, purposely ignoring the flash of hunger in his eyes. “I’ll trade you places.”
He stalked toward her, holding her hips as he brushed past her in the narrow hall. She sat on the sofa, crossing her legs and watching with amusement as he tore his bed apart, replacing the blue sheets with a set of black ones. She extended a hand. “Pass me the pillows and pillowcases.”
He lobbed them toward her before returning his attention to wrestling with his comforter. “What movie do you want tonight?” he called over his shoulder, snapping the blanket smooth.
Something boring that neither of us will be into.
“Pick some blockbuster moneymaker sequel,” she replied, tucking one pillow into its case and fluffing it. “One where none of the original cast returned.”
He laughed and flopped onto his bed, stretching over to reach his remote and giving her a good, long look at the abs she hadn’t seen in ages.
Damn, he was hot.
Her fingers were still aching from the grip she’d maintained on her purse to keep her hands from drifting down to his muscled thighs as he stretched his arm behind her headrest and grazed his thumb along the nape of her neck while they traveled the park.
She loaded her arms with the pillows, adding the small throw cushions from the sofa, and joined him. His eyes were fixated on the television, scanning the descriptions of each movie before making his selection triumphantly and sliding the remote back onto the ledge beside him. “This work?”
“Perfect.”
She waited patiently as he tucked his arms behind his head and got comfortable, his long legs crossed at the ankles and hanging over the edge of the bed. Once he stopped shifting, she tucked a pillow up beside him and snuggled up nice and tight, tossing one arm over his chest.
“You’re off tonight,” she murmured, tentatively broaching the somber undertone their evening had held. “Are you okay?”
He nodded and sat up, folding his pillow in half before lying back on it again. “All good.”
Unwilling to rock the boat on one of their first nights as a not-a-couple-but-not-a-booty-call relationship, she resettled, changing the subject. “You’re really warm.”
He looked down at her. “I tend to run hot. Probably why I keep the air conditioner blasting in here constantly.”
She’d noticed it weeks ago, how his skin was always warm to the touch whether they were out in the blistering heat or holed up in the sweet coolness of the lounge. She had even taken to cranking her own air conditioner up when he was at her place, his natural heat battling alongside the desert temperatures.
Without the slightest effort to watch the movie Alex had selected, she began drawing loops on his black shirt. Her fingers grazed along his body, the slight quickening of his breathing merely encouraging her as he kept his eyes on the small screen. She trailed her hand as far up his biceps as she could reach before doubling back and skimming the neckline of his shirt, smiling when he held his breath a fraction longer. Growing bolder, she dipped down to the hem and inched her fingers underneath. “I’m not bothering you, am I?”
She glanced up as he swallowed, his eyes still locked on the movie. “Nope. I’m good.”
Fascinated by the amount of heat he was giving off, she continued her exploration slowly, skipping her fingertips over his ribs and skirting his abs. He shifted his hips, drawing her attention to the growing issue he was dealing with as he uncrossed his ankles and bent one knee. She dragged her pinky along the inside band of his jeans, impressed when his only reaction was to dig his heel further into the mattress.
She tilted her head up to him. “Want me to stop?”
“Nope,” he muttered, his jaw muscles flexed. “I’m good.”
That makes two of us, big boy.
She glanced down and bit her cheek.
Big, big boy.
Resuming her exploration, she snuggled her pillow further down to increase her scope. She ran her hand down one of his thighs then ventured back up the other one, her arm grazing the bulge in his jeans and earning a sharp exhale from him. Rising up onto her elbow, she hooked her thumb into the waistband of his jeans. “Can I?”
His unique eyes had moved from the television to her fingers, his hands clasped behind his head and biceps tight. “That depends. Booty calls redraw the limited benefits guidelines, right?”
“I’m not up for the booty part of the call tonight,” she replied, smirking at him. “You, however, have a loophole.”
“I fucking love loopholes.”
She popped the button and eased the zipper down, taking care to avoid making contact with the beast she was unleashing. Keeping one eye on his reactions, she hooked her fingers into his belt loops and rose to her knees, tugging the stubborn jeans off his hips and pushing them down until he was able to kick them onto the floor.
“You really need a laundry hamper,” she said, thumbing the hem of his black boxers.
“I’ll pick one up tomorrow.”
“I can come with you,” she offered before she could stop herself.
He pushed himself up onto his elbows, his hair falling forward as he watched her intently. “We’ll go after breakfast.”
Deciding to deal with their unintentional plans later, she tossed one leg over his and straddled him, tracing his mouthwatering V-cut and stopping just short of the very prominent promised land. As he reached toward her, she sat back and crossed her ar
ms. “Uh-uh. Keep those paws to yourself.”
“Seriously?” His eyes flickered between her face and her hands that had dropped back to his boxers, her fingers finally touching his length.
“Seriously,” she stated. “Though if you want to be helpful, you could take off your shirt.” He sat up slowly, glancing behind her as if expecting a filming crew before he yanked his shirt over his head. She sat back on her heels, biting her lip as she took in the smooth expanse of his chest and studied a black symbol tattooed over his heart, tracing the thick C shape and arrow with her thumb. “Any meaning behind this?”
He leaned back on his elbows again, his attention locked on her every move while she resumed her exploration of his body. “Um, yeah. Probably.” With each grazing of his member, he held his breath a fraction longer. With every trailing along his inner thighs, his hips shifted slightly.
And when she finally inched her hand under his boxers and gripped him, his head dropped back, and a low moan escaped him.
The power rush alone was enough to encourage her further, his heavy breathing merely a bonus as she stroked him slowly. His fingers stretched toward her periodically before he’d remember her instructions and they would snap back down to the mattress, tangling in his sheets.
“Damn,” he muttered, making a valiant effort to sit up enough to watch her as she worked him. With the quick twist of her hand and a tightening of her grip, he dropped back onto his pillow with a grunt. “Hot damn, baby. Let me…lemme return the favor?”
“Nah,” she replied, smirking when his eyelids fluttered. “I kind of like calling the shots right now. I’m good at it.”
“Very.” He moaned, digging his heel into the mattress. “And I’m definitely not complaining.”
She was fascinated.
Fascinated with the goosebumps that had risen on his hot skin when she loosened her hold on him and ran her thumb over the tip of his length.
Fascinated with the string of curses he let out when she gripped him at the base with one hand while she pumped him slowly with the other.
Fascinated by how she turned him into a hot mess with nothing but her hands.
Junkyard Dog Page 11
