“Oh, God,” I whispered. “Oh, my fucking God.”
Alec glanced up, his eyes so black. “You want this?” He darted his tongue out, flickering it over the head of my cock. It caught on the lace.
I nearly came on the spot, biting my lip and bowing my back, trying to keep it together, letting out a broken moan.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured against me, and started to lick and suck in earnest, up and down my shaft, one hand cupping my balls. His fingers reached behind, stroking the little strip of skin and then pressing against my hole.
“You’ll make me come. Alec, wait, you’re going to—”
“Good. I want to make you come right in your panties, soak them and let me lick it up—”
I cried out helplessly, clutching at his hair, bending over him and coming in spasm after spasm. I did soak the silk, and Alec sucked the head of my cock into his mouth, taking as much of it as he could through the lace.
My hands fell away as my whole body went limp except for the aftershocks chasing their way up and down my spine.
Alec stood smoothly, tipping my head back and pressing his mouth to mine. I tasted my own come on his lips, a little bitter, but sweetened by the way he kissed me, like he couldn’t get enough of my taste no matter where he put his mouth. His erection pushed against my abdomen, and I fumbled my hands between us to pull it out. I wanted it. In my hand, in my mouth, inside my body, I didn’t care. I needed to see and feel him as he fell apart.
“It won’t take much,” Alec said, his voice a low rumble. I realized I’d said some of what I’d been thinking aloud. “Your hand. That’s enough.”
“You said you’d fuck me.”
Did I sound whiny? Probably, because Alec chuckled breathlessly. “Yeah, well, I remembered I don’t have a condom. Do you?”
Fuck. No, I didn’t. I shook my head. “I don’t care.” Oh, God, what the fuck was wrong with me? “Never mind. Forget I said that. Even though I really want to.”
“Me too. But not the time, not the place. Just jerk me off. Please.” He thrust against me and groaned. “Before I explode.”
“I think that’s the idea.”
I’d recovered enough to have some of my coordination back, so I got his trousers open with a minimum of fuss and finally, finally got to feel the cock that’d been fueling my solo fantasies since we met.
And God, it surpassed all my expectations. Hot and thick and heavy, and long enough to make me clench my ass a little in anticipation.
Not here. Like he said, not the time or place. But later.
Alec pushed his cock into my hand, not subtle at all in showing me what he wanted, and I pulled it out of his boxer-briefs and went to town, stroking from the base to the tip and working the head with my thumb, ringing my fingers around the ridge of the glans and pulling Alec down into a kiss so that he could fuck my mouth with his tongue while he fucked my hand.
It didn’t take much, just like he’d said. He braced himself on the desk and came all over my hand, his head thrown back and his lips parted, his eyes squeezed shut.
He shuddered one last time, and his head dropped down, coming to rest on my shoulder.
Which left me pressed against Adam’s desk, my hand dripping, and my underwear soaked and getting chilly and clammy by the second.
I wouldn’t have changed a thing, but…we had to get through a formal party hosted by my parents in order to get out of here. The side doors would be locked and alarmed.
And I hadn’t seen Dr. Wilson.
If I did see Dr. Wilson, it would be swollen-lipped and damp with my and Alec’s come.
Oh, God. I rested my head on Alec’s shoulder, too. I deserved it. My head swam.
His hand came up to stroke my back, a gentle caress that made me bite my lip to keep in anything really, really stupid I could’ve said. Like how much I liked him. Or how I wished he’d lead me out of here, head held high, letting everyone think whatever they wanted and not caring that they all knew he’d fucked me at the party.
And then take me home and stay there with me.
Feed me ice cream.
I had something seriously wrong with me, and if I said any of that, he’d run so far and so fast he’d leave a scorch mark like the Road Runner.
He turned his head and pressed a soft, barely-there kiss right below my ear. How had he already figured out that spot did things to me?
“Does the asshole have his own bathroom, by any chance? Or are we going to need to leave his office to get cleaned up?”
“Across the hall.” I sounded as shaky as I felt, dammit. “I’m not sure what to do about my wet manties.”
“Mmm.” Alec licked my throat, lazily, like a big cat grooming his mate. “That’s the hottest fucking thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
He pulled back, slowly releasing me. “Can you open the door? My hand’s a little…” I held it up, and it glistened in the light from the window.
“Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “And also, you right now? Hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” He ducked down for a quick, searing kiss, leaving me reeling while he’d already moved away, done up his trousers, and unlocked the door.
He opened it a crack and peeked out. “Coast is clear. Head to the bathroom, and I’ll make sure we didn’t leave any evidence in here.”
I grimaced. Evidence. Gross. It seemed hot when it was happening, but…no matter how much I disliked Adam, leaving smears of our come on his desk or carpet would just be foul.
Alec held the door as I slipped through, and I trotted across the hall and into the safety of the bathroom.
I took a moment to slump back against the door.
We’d had sex. Finally. And it had been amazing.
I could feel the smile on my face, so wide and irrepressible it made my cheeks ache.
Yeah, I’d definitely deserved better. And Alec had delivered.
Still smiling, I turned on the sink, checked out my flushed, bright-eyed reflection in the mirror, and got to work making myself presentable.
11
Alec
With Gabe safely ensconced in the bathroom across the hall, I had a much-needed moment to freak the hell out. Fuck, what had I done? My body felt incredible, relaxed and energized all at once and singing with satisfaction.
My brain, on the other hand, had just come back online after taking a hiatus and delegating its responsibilities to my other head.
I leaned my forehead against the office door, letting it cool my burning skin.
Right, I had a demilitarized zone dividing me from seducing someone involved with my case—my lying, weak-willed ass.
Gabe thought I’d been dating him because I liked him, and taking it slow because I respected him.
And the worst of it was, he wasn’t wrong. At all. I liked him. I liked him too damn much.
So much that when that asshole Whipley had been all over him, I’d reacted like Gabe and I were legitimately a couple, like I had a right to get worked up when someone else hit on him. When Gabe pulled me aside into the empty hallway, I’d lost it.
Lost it more.
And then lost it to the nth degree when I slipped my hand under the waistband of his trousers and found the edge of those fucking little lacy panties.
Jesus Christ, he couldn’t have pressed my buttons more perfectly if he’d tried.
The taste of him still lingered on my lips. My body still throbbed with the aftershocks of how amazing it’d felt to have his bare skin on me, his hand bringing me off. His moans and gasps echoed in my ears. I’d made him feel like that. Me. Alec. Borodin or Kaminsky, FBI agent or unemployed construction worker, it didn’t matter. That had just been Gabe and Alec, and our real identities didn’t have anything to do with the surge of joy and arousal and longing that’d risen up in me when he buried his fingers in my hair and pulled me in so he could come against my eager mouth, did it?
Of course it did. Because he wouldn’t have wanted to have sex if he knew the truth.
; Except that it wasn’t the truth, because he’d think I’d been using him, but I really hadn’t. I’d have wanted him at least as much if he had nothing to do with my case at all.
I might not have thought to suggest Whipley’s office as the place for us to mess around if I hadn’t wanted a reason to come in here, though. I’d kept my head enough to think of that, which only made my betrayal infinitely worse. I’d lost control in the one way I should’ve kept it, and kept control when losing it would’ve been more honest.
My head spun with it, guilt and desire and the frantic wish that I could simply tell him everything without changing everything at the same time.
And it’d all be for nothing if I didn’t use the opportunity I had right then. I pushed off the door, tucked my shirt in, and straightened myself up the best I could. Gabe would be done in the bathroom soon. I had to table the self-recrimination for later, and get it the fuck together. Whipley had made it to the top of my suspect list by virtue of being tall and dark-haired—and being a total douche whose clothes and accessories screamed that he liked to spend money didn’t help. But I needed to check out Dave’s office, too, if I could. Which meant I needed to make this quick, get Gabe distracted and headed back downstairs, and do another pass through the executive offices before anyone missed me.
Whipley’s office had an overhead light, but turning that on might attract attention. Instead, I pulled out my phone and used its flashlight. Shining it around showed me exactly what I’d expect to see. Desk, chair, loveseat and small coffee table in the corner, a wall of framed photos and awards for various Middleton yachts. No filing cabinets. Maybe he made his secretary run down the hall every time he needed a file.
What a dick.
Of course, that assessment might’ve been slightly biased.
I opened his desk drawers, none of them locked. All the usual crap, although the bottom drawer held a box of condoms hidden way in the back.
Okay, yes, it might be a little hypocritical of me, since I’d just had sex in the guy’s office myself—and because I’d so have taken one if I’d known they were there, dammit—but keeping condoms at work just seemed gross.
I forced myself not to think about Whipley and Gabe having sex, maybe somewhere on these premises with one of those condoms. From the little Gabe had told me, it sounded like Whipley had borderline taken advantage of him, and I couldn’t throw up all over Whipley’s desk, no matter how much the idea of leaving him a horrifying mess appealed to me.
I turned my attention to the photos on the wall. Whipley with a group of people in yachting clothes, all holding drinks. Whipley with Gabe’s father at some kind of event like the one going on downstairs. A long shot of a dock with a whole row of boats, presumably made by Middleton.
Something nagged at me, and I went back to the first shot. The group stood in front of a boat, not surprisingly, with the boat itself mostly obscured behind them. And telling different boats apart wasn’t exactly my area of expertise. But I’d studied the Canadian photos closely. And in one of them, the yacht suspected of carrying the contraband was shown from the stern, with whatever the smugglers had used to obscure the yacht’s name slipping to the side a little. Not enough to be helpful in identifying the boat, because it only showed two letters, a lowercase ne, in a light-blue script that probably a thousand boats in the area would have—but the name showing from behind the happy drunks ended in tune, in the exact same color and script.
Not damning. But definitely suggestive. Whipley had just moved to the top of my list.
I looked at the rest of the photos and poked around the office a little more, but nothing else jumped out at me. I switched off the flashlight and went for the door when I heard the bathroom door open across the hall.
Gabe and I stepped out at the same time. He’d put himself back together, but he still looked flushed and puffy-lipped and disheveled in that indefinable way people always were after they’d had sex.
“Hi,” he said, with a little smile that begged me to make the right move, for once.
So I kissed him. What choice did I have, with him looking so beautiful and freshly fucked and unsure of himself? When I pulled back, I smoothed his hair away from his forehead, earning myself another one of those million-dollar smiles. The strands felt a little damp. He’d splashed water on his face, obviously, although I wasn’t going to be the one to tell him he still looked like he’d sneaked off for some surreptitious fun.
“My turn in the bathroom,” I said softly. “Why don’t you head back down and make an appearance? If we’re both gone for much longer it’ll look really strange.” It’d already look strange, but I needed him out of my way for another ten minutes.
“I’ll meet you by the bar?”
“Yeah. In a little bit.” I kissed him again, because I could. Fuck it. I’d already pole-vaulted over that line and then set it on fire behind me. I seemed to make Gabe happy, and wasn’t that a fucking trip, given my track record with men? I could make him happy without being completely honest. I could make him so damn happy he’d forgive me when he found out the truth. “I’ll catch up with you. Go look like you’re enjoying yourself, and stay out of Whipley’s way. If he touches you, scream.”
Gabe’s eyes danced with amusement. “Stranger danger?”
“That or ‘I have better sex in your office when you’re not there’ maybe?”
He chuckled and stretched up to kiss me. “Absolutely no doubt about that,” he whispered against my lips as he withdrew. “I’ll see you in a few.”
With one last lingering glance that had me wanting to push him up against the wall again, he vanished down the hallway.
I did duck into the bathroom long enough to make sure my tie sat straight and I didn’t have any obvious come stains on my black tux, but then it was off to explore the rest of the executive offices.
I didn’t bother with Mark’s, other than a cursory glance. Middleton Marine was his family’s legacy company, he had plenty of money from his wife’s side of the family as well as his own, and the company’s financials, which we’d already checked out, looked healthy. An old-money man like that wouldn’t dabble in drug smuggling, anyway, in all likelihood. He’d make some other risky investment, something superficially respectable.
Another couple of offices yielded nothing out of the ordinary, and then I found Dave’s. Even though he might have the same attachment to the company his father did, he still seemed likelier. He might have debts and secrets of his own: a mistress, illegitimate children, an addiction to horse racing. Or yacht racing. Who knew. But nothing popped in there except for the yoga mat in the corner of the room.
I grimaced at it. Who did yoga, seriously? Apparently half the population of Burlington. On a whim, I unrolled it and took a look. The logo stamped in the corner matched the brand we were fairly sure the smugglers used to conceal their fentanyl. Suggestive, but absolutely not proof of anything except that Dave had an obnoxious hobby. I pictured him passive-aggressively berating the staff while doing whatever that pose was where you stuck your ass way up in the air. Yeah. I could definitely see that, and I really regretted the mental image.
Ugh. His brother had gotten all the genes for nice asses in the family. Dave was just an ass, plain and simple.
I’d used up my few minutes and then some, so I let myself out of Dave’s office as quietly as possible, headed for the stairs—and nearly ran smack into Dave himself as he turned the corner from the stairwell.
We both stopped dead. “What the hell are you doing up here?” Dave demanded, his voice low and ugly.
“Got turned around looking for a bathroom,” I said, going for breezy. “I don’t think this is the one I was looking for, but I did find one.”
“That’s the bathroom.” Dave pointed at the door right next to me. “Nice try, but you didn’t just step out of it. You were coming from farther down the hallway. Do I need to call the police?”
Shit, wouldn’t that be fucking awkward. Not to mention, it’d make Ga
be break my nose and then run screaming, while whoever ran the smuggling operation escaped and covered his tracks. Killing myself before AD Kyle got to me would be my only way out.
“No, of course not. What do you think I was doing? I took a piss, went to look out the window at the view.” Thank Christ there was a window at the end of the hall to give me a plausible excuse. “You have an incredible location here.”
Dave crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, examining me down his long, thin nose like a particularly cranky bird with its beak out of joint. “A guy like you obviously can’t be honestly interested in my brother, so I’m going to ask you one more time: What are you doing here? If it’s corporate espionage, I’ll bury you. And if you’re some kind of garden-variety gold digger, Gabe doesn’t have anything to do with Middleton Marine, other than sharing a name. You won’t get anything out of us.”
The first few words out of his mouth had my heart jumping and my palms sweating, but then the rest of what he’d said sank in. He hadn’t figured out the truth; of course he hadn’t, or he wouldn’t have been threatening to call the cops. But the rest of it…
“What the hell makes you think I can’t be honestly interested in Gabe?”
I’d kept my body language non-threatening, but Dave tensed up and took a step back anyway.
“Because you’re more or less normal,” he spat. “By his standards, anyway. Are you even gay? What’s your angle?”
I gave him a lingering once-over, head to toe, watching in suppressed, furious amusement as his face went red and he crossed his arms more tightly over his chest. Well, I’d already pissed him off as much as I could, in all likelihood. Trading personal jabs might distract him from the whole corporate espionage train of thought.
Besides. The fucker started it.
“Are you sure you’re even straight? Or did you follow me up here hoping for a quickie?”
Dave sputtered, going from red to purple, and I took the opportunity of a good exit line to shoulder past him and make my escape down the stairs. He shouted something after me as I clattered down, but I couldn’t quite catch it. Complimentary, no doubt. Maybe telling me my ass looked great in my tux trousers.
Undercover (Vino and Veritas) Page 11