“Just, you know…stuff.” Cody hesitated. He could hear the caution in his words. The sound of Cody’s husky voice had him thinking about stuff too. Yeah, thinking about really good stuff that had his dick plumping up and filling out those damn cartoon bottoms he wore.
“Stuff, huh? What kind of stuff?” He wanted to know if Cody had been thinking about him as much as he’d been thinking about Cody. Mitch pushed his hand inside the waistband of those brightly-colored pajamas and took hold of his cock.
“Do you wanna know what I think about, Cody?” He pressed on, not waiting for a response. He didn’t know how Cody would react, but he had to give this a shot. His dick had grown so fucking hard, and he needed the release. If he could get the shy country boy on board with his plan, then maybe he could fall asleep without a hard-on.
Fuckin’ hell! The stupid bottoms were too restrictive so he made quick work of pushing the offending sleep pants down past his hips so he could get a better hold. Mitch ran his thumb back and forth over the sensitive head of his leaking dick as he continued talking.
“I think about the way your lips tasted against mine when you kissed me with that sweet mouth. The way your teeth scraped against my skin. Damn, that was fucking hot, Cody Turner. But what I think about the most is how much I wanted to taste that rock hard cock of yours. Swallow you all the way down, over and over again, and feel you losing yourself to me. Then I’d devour everything you gave me as you emptied your hot load down my throat. And you need to know, I would have done that had we not been interrupted.” Mitch’s voice lowered.
“That’s what I think about, Cody, and I’m so fucking hard for you right now, my dick’s dripping.” He swore he heard Cody’s breath hitch followed by a soft moan. Yeah, his night might just turn out better than he originally thought.
“Would you have liked that, State Trooper Turner?”
Cody couldn’t help but slide his hand inside his briefs and curl his fingers around his aching cock as he listened to the cadence of Mitch’s deep, sexy voice. Fuck! Had he moaned out loud when he pulled off a slow stroke? Shit! He didn’t know if he was more embarrassed or turned on at his actions. He’d never touched himself while he had someone on the other end of his phone. He wasn’t even sure how this worked, him being a phone sex virgin and all.
His drunken mind easily rationalized that he never had to tell anyone either. But god, the visual of Mitch’s lips stretched around his dick had him hanging on every word and needing to find his own release.
“Yes,” he whispered as he slowly shoved his hips into his tight grip and closed his eyes.
“Are you touching yourself, Cody?” Cody’s eyes flew open, his hand stilled on his cock. How had Mitch known? What was he supposed to say?
He was most definitely touching himself, but he didn’t know if he could actually say those words to Mitch. Fuck, he wished he were bolder. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he heard Mitch’s husky voice again.
“I’m touching myself, and it feels amazing. I’m pretending it’s your hand stroking me, Cody. Your hand making me feel sooo good,” Mitch said, drawing out the word, making it sound naughty. Just knowing Mitch masturbated on the other end of the line had his dick jerking in his hand even more.
“Mitch, umm…I…” he stuttered, searching for words.
“I want you to touch yourself, for me, Cody. God, I wish I could see that sexy blush thing you do, right now.” Mitch’s words cut off his train of thought. “Let me hear you pleasuring yourself along with me.”
He could hear the rustling of the covers and Mitch’s breathing change. “Fuck, it feels so good, Cody. Just touch yourself,” Mitch growled. Damn, Cody was so turned on right now, he couldn’t ever remember being this worked up over the sound of someone’s voice. His cock was as hard as fucking stone and beading at the tip.
“I…I am,” Cody managed to say. The admission was both awkward and stimulating all at the same time.
“Good. Are you stroking yourself for me, Cody?”
“Yes,” he breathed, his hand keeping a slow steady pace. And it felt amazing, not only his hand on his dick, but just being able to be so open.
“Close your eyes and think about sliding your cock between my lips and deep down my throat. I wanna taste you so fucking bad. I have since the minute I laid eyes on you. It’s all I think about.”
“Oh god yes!” He screwed his eyes shut and tightened his grip.
“I want you to play with your balls, Cody, and pretend it’s me holding them in my palm as you fuck my throat.” Cody stroked himself faster and harder, adding a little twist of his wrist in just the right spot. With his free hand, he did exactly as Mitch asked and slid his palm to his balls and began tugging and playing with the sensitive sac.
He imagined his hands going to the back of Mitch’s head and forcing his cock deeper down Mitch’s throat. The visual had him biting his lip, drawing blood, trying to keep as quiet as he could. His orgasm built so fast he didn’t know how much longer he could hold off. He was absolutely going to blow.
“Cody, I can hear you breathing, does it feel good?”
“Fuck yes! Mitch, keep talking. I’m close.” He quickened the pace, arching his body as he pushed up into his fist. A light sheen of sweat coated his skin as he strained to hold back his release. He reached the point of no return, but he didn’t care, he was so hot for this man.
“I wanna hear you say my name when you come. Just so you know who made you feel like this.” Mitch’s command went straight to his balls, drawing them up tight against his body. Jesus H. Christ he was gonna come.
“I’m so fucking close,” he moaned.
“Come for me, Cody,” Mitch ordered.
“Mitch! Fuck, yesss…I’m coming.” His dick jerked in his grip, shooting creamy ribbons of liquid heat across his chest and stomach as he tumbled over the edge.
“Soo good, Cody…so fucking good,” Mitch gasped. He sounded out of breath, and for some reason, that made Cody smile. He stroked his sensitive cock one last time, listening to the heavy breathing on the other end of the line. They both remained silent for a little while. He didn’t really know exactly what to say. What did you say to someone you’d just jerked off with over the phone? Mitch broke the silence.
“You shouted my name. I guess I don’t have to ask if it was good for you, too.” Mitch chuckled, his voice huskier than before and slightly lethargic.
“Yeah, it was really good. I’ve never done anything like that before, with anyone,” Cody confessed.
“So you do it by yourself, then?” Mitch was teasing him, but his cheeks warmed up anyway.
“Yes, I ummm… No! S-shit!” he stuttered. He could really feel the heat in his face now. He’d just embarrassed himself.
“Mmm…I’d love to watch. I’ll bet you’re a spectacular sight when you come,” Mitch purred. Damn, that voice was making Cody hard again.
“You wanna watch me come?” His stomach tightened excitedly at the thought. He’d never been an exhibitionist, but he wasn’t a prude either. To be honest, he’d love to watch Mitch come too.
“I bet you’re fucking hot! If you liked what we did tonight, just wait till I get you on Skype, Cody Turner,” Mitch said, and the words sent a shiver across his body and took root in his sated and alcohol-clouded mind. He’d worry about what that meant in the morning.
“Until next time, Cody Turner…” Mitch whispered, and Cody smiled as he drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 18
Monday morning, the flight from Kentucky hadn’t been near as eventful as the flight there. As they ate up the miles in the air, zooming back to Washington, DC, Mitch watched as Connors changed from the reasonable, almost easygoing guy he’d finally become in Kentucky, to the stressed out, overly talkative freak Mitch had met when he’d first arrived to the DC office. To say Connors was back to being annoying was an understatement.
That caused Mitch to sigh and rub his fingers against his temples, trying to rid himself o
f the headache he’d had for most of the morning. His goals were simple—he was determined to sit down with every Secret Service agent assigned to Greyson and have a talk with each one individually. His plan consisted of digging further into their backgrounds, but he prepared himself for the uphill battle that would become once he hit the walls of red tape and interdepartmental rivalries. He doubted, as well-trained in discretion as they were, that he’d be able to trip them into making a stupid verbal mistake.
The plane touched down, jarring Mitch from his thoughts. He jerked his eyes open to see they had landed at the same private airstrip they’d departed from. The dings of their phones started almost immediately upon touchdown. Mitch ignored his. He’d found out this morning, if he looked at his phone, he’d think about Cody and the phone call they’d shared last night. Mitch sighed….right then, with just that thought, he grew hard again. He forced his mind back to the present, unbuckled his seat belt, and rose, stretching out his body before heading to the front of the plane for his duffel bag and laptop.
Connors had kept his bag with him. He’d never bothered to take off his suit coat either. When he exited, he looked as sharp and crisp as he did when he boarded the flight. It must have killed him to be so rumpled and wet yesterday in Kentucky. Mitch grinned at the thought.
“How do you do that?” Mitch asked, grabbing for the sunglasses he had hooked into the top of his T-shirt. The brightness of the sun blinded him as he stepped outside to the stairwell.
“How do I do what?” Connors asked as he answered his ringing phone. “What happened?”
There was silence as Connors came to an abrupt stop on the bottom step. Mitch was forced to stop or plow right into Connors from behind. Just as Mitch prepared to shove the guy off the last step, he heard him say, “Are they certain it’s a break?” Mitch got the impression this was more personal than professional from the depth of concern he heard in the man’s tone. “What hospital are you at?”
Mitch did reach out and move Connors over, not the shove he originally intended, but a slight nudge. He headed toward the car that had apparently replaced their company-assigned vehicle. To his surprise, the driver got out and crawled into the backseat as Mitch headed over.
“Is this thing set for the bureau?” Mitch asked as he took the now free driver’s seat, waving a finger at the GPS in the dashboard.
“Yeah, I know the way, but I figured it would play out like this. I heard I was saddled with two type-A personalities. Figured neither of you would be taking the backseat. Plus word spreads quickly in our circles,” the guy added with a shrug.
“I’m not like him.” Mitch hooked his thumb out the side window in Connors’s direction.
The guy nodded slowly. “Sure, you’re not.”
“Caroline, I’m on my way,” Connors said as he slid inside the car. He turned to Mitch, covering a hand over the phone, and said quietly, “I need to be dropped off at St. Mary’s. My son’s having surgery.”
“Be a big boy. I’ll be there soon.” Connors said into the phone. The driver hoisted himself between the seats and reprogrammed the GPS. “Yes, you’ll have a scar like me. Be brave, I’ll be there in a few minutes. Kiss your mom for me.”
Mitch didn’t do anything more than just stare at Connors. The guy had babbled more words to him in the last twenty-four hours than Kreed had in the last ten years, yet he hadn’t mentioned something as important as the fact he had a kid?
“What? Get going. My son’s having surgery,” Connors ordered, doing a forward finger motion thing, trying to get him moving along.
“You have a family?”
“I got you programmed in,” the driver said and sat back. The GPS calculated their route, but Mitch didn’t bother to move even though he was certain it wasn’t hard to find his way out of the airport.
“Do I need to drive?” Connors sounded impatient.
Mitch lifted his brow at the FBI agent. “That’s something a partner tells another partner. You haven’t shut up since I met you, and I just now find out you have a family?”
“So what? You didn’t tell me about yours, and with all that ‘fuck yeah’ coming through the walls last night, you sure weren’t talking to your director.” Point for Connors. That effectively shut Mitch up. Damn, he’d thought he’d been quiet last night.
When the GPS voice began, Mitch put the car in drive and started out of the airport.
“You heard all that, did you? And how do you know I wasn’t talking to my director?” Mitch said, trying for a little shock value as he turned the blinker on and merged into the traffic.
“My bed was against the same wall as yours. Besides, I did tell you about my family. You tuned me out.”
“If I listened to everything you said, I’d be a raving lunatic. Do you have one of those siren things for the top of the car? GPS says twenty minutes. I bet I can make it in seven,” Mitch asked the driver as their eyes met in the rearview mirror.
“Just get us there alive,” Connors cautioned at the same time the driver started to buckle himself in.
“No, sir, we’re a private car service. I own this car,” the driver said, sounding a little unnerved. Mitch looked into the rearview mirror again and swore he saw the sweat beading on the guy’s forehead.
“But the government’s liable, right? Means they have to take responsibility if I crash.” Mitch hit the gas and chuckled when the tires squealed as he took the ramp to the highway. He got them to the hospital in about fifteen minutes, and pulled up to the rotunda of the hospital to let him out. “I’ll be up in a minute.”
That stopped Connors in his tracks. He immediately swiveled on his feet and stuck his head back in the car. “No, go back to the office.”
“Nah, man, your kid’s going into surgery. Even temporary partners should be there for one another.” Mitch looked back at the driver. “Can you wait?”
“No. Really, just no. My wife’s already too distressed. Just go back to the office.”
“I’ll distract her. I can be charming,” Mitch said cockily, more as a joke, but gave the sexy grin he used to lure the guys in. Mitch could see Connors was clearly becoming frustrated because he wanted inside that hospital.
“No. Please, she doesn’t do chaos. That’s complete chaos.” Connors pointed to Mitch’s exposed tattoos before using his finger to circle all of Mitch’s exterior. That stopped Mitch in his tracks. The driver, who had gotten out to take over driving, gave an ‘oh shit’ and got back inside the backseat, shutting the door.
“Look,” Connors started. “She’s OCD to the max. She has a PhD in accounting, and she’s very upset. So now’s not the time. I gotta go.” Connors wheeled around, slammed the door, and headed to the information desk as Mitch sat there staring. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that encounter. Was he offended that a bunch of stuffed shirts didn’t find him appropriate? Okay, no, not even a little bit. That wasn’t news. He’d made the decision a long time ago to not be a part of the man’s institution. Instead of driving them on, Mitch got out, walked around the car, and got in the passenger seat. The driver remained seated in the back.
“I can drive, but you know the way.” Mitch stared out the front window.
“I’ve driven Agent Connors for years. He’s always like that. Don’t be offended,” the driver said from the backseat.
“Not a problem. It’s better anyway. I need to get badged up, access to the building. All that’s going to take some time. Besides, I’d last about two point five minutes in that waiting room before I went stir crazy and drove everyone around me mad. This is for the better.”
“I figured you for that type. You’re a doer. It’s gonna be interesting to see how you fit in around there,” the driver said after he got behind the wheel. Mitch just looked at him. Yeah, he’d wondered that same thing. How would he fit in with a bunch of guys with sticks up their asses? He couldn’t help but laugh at the visual.
“I’ve been assigned to you for the length of your time here. I laughed out loud a f
ew minutes ago when I saw you get off that plane. You got here yesterday, right?” the driver asked as he put the car in gear and navigated the hospital parking lot.
“Yeah.” Mitch cocked his brow, waiting for further explanation.
“Just wait until today. They all make Agent Connors look normal.” That made Mitch laugh.
“I’ve been with the deputy marshal program for years, I’ve worked with the bureau before,” Mitch informed the man.
“Not like this you haven’t. I’m Derrick, by the way,” the driver introduced himself.
“I’m Mitch.” They awkwardly shook hands while Derrick drove through the city.
“See, right there. No one uses their first name around here. Everybody uses their title. It’s good to meet you. Good luck, man. Here’s my card. Call me, I’m on standby for you,” he said, pulling to the front entrance of the FBI building.
“Thanks, man,” Mitch took the card, got out, and started to reach for Kreed’s duffel.
The driver shook his head. “Nah, I can hang on to your bags until I take you to your room, you don’t want to take it in there.” Mitch nodded, took his laptop case, and looked up at the massive building, before he started walking toward the front doors. There was considerably more activity than there had been yesterday when he’d arrived and then Director Carpenter had been waiting downstairs for him. Ignoring the fact he was the only one in jeans and a T-shirt, he entered the building through the front doors, only to be stopped immediately by FBI security.
Chapter 19
Cody woke about midmorning to a pounding headache. He opened one eye, then slowly managed to open the other, his phone lay on the pillow next to him. Damn, his head hurt. The headache had nothing on the cottonmouth drying his throat and tongue. He tried to muster enough saliva to help the situation. It didn’t work. He looked around his darkened bedroom. The bright Texas sun was trying to peek its way through his dark drapes. Thank goodness Sheila had insisted on black curtains when she’d decorated his apartment.
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