Page 77 of Isaac

There's an edge to it, to this act, that makes me feel alive in a way I haven't been for years. Something at the base of my spin stirs, then spreads through my insides, hot and urgent.

I’m turned on, I realize. My own cock is hard in my pants. A fucking anomaly.

"I’m gonna come if you keep going…" Hawk chokes out.

"That’s the idea," I whisper back wickedly.

With both hands still gripping the counter for support, Hawk angles his hips toward me, offering himself up.

Firmly, I squeeze his balls, holding him off the edge, commanding, "Say my name."

"Isaac," he grunts out.

I tighten my grip—squeezing the base while I simultaneously twist the tip.

"Fuck..." Hawk pants, his eyes fly open. He stares at me, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to regain control of himself. "That’s—"

I don’t give him that chance. "My name," I hiss in his ear.

A harsh exhale leaves his lips... "Christ, Blade..."

That’s better. "Good." I offer up a quick word of praise and adjust my grip on his cock again, squeezing just a little bit harder.

"Oh, fuck yes..." Hawk’s eyes roll back in his head, and I know he’s close. I can feel it.

"Look at me," I mutter. "I want to see you when you come."

As if my words hold power over him, his lids snap up again and I’m met with a haze of desire and ocean blue. His lashes flatter while my palm wrapped around his length continues to slide up and down the thick shaft.

"Fucking look at me," I order, all raspy from the heavy breathing. "And don’t you dare to close your eyes. You get it?" My hand moves faster and faster over his cock, determined to jack him off until he’s milked completely dry.

He nods in response, biting into his lower lip.

"That’s it," I coax. "Come for me."

The head of his cock is leaking pre-cum, and I gladly collect it with my thumb, then use it to tease the sensitive area underneath. Hawk’s back arches even more, the tendons in his neck standing out in relief.

"Fuck... Blade!" Hawk screams my goddamn street name as his body jerks and he spills—hot and sticky—over my palm and my clothes and the bathroom floor and I revel in that slickness between my fingers as if I’m marked by him, as if I’m his now and he is mine.

I watch him with morbid fascination as he trembles beneath my touch, as he comes apart before me—muscles tensing then relaxing—and there’s something about this that feels... right.

There’s silence in the bathroom, taut and heated and filled with electricity and the musky smell of cum.

"Fuck... Isaac," Hawk gasps several heartbeats later, his head lolling onto my shoulder, his frame a trembling echo of spent energy.

"Looks like you needed it," I say teasingly with a ghost of a smirk, even though he can’t see it. I’m feeling a rare flicker of something akin to warmth at his vulnerability.

His chuckle is low and broken. "Yeah, more than you know."

Oh, I know it. I haven’t been turned on since I laid Jacob to fucking rest.

CHAPTER 23

DA— HAWK

The bell above the café door chimes a bleak welcome as I step into the intimately lit refuge of dark wood, cool air, and the scent of burnt, cheap coffee. A small, forgotten haven in the sprawling tangle of Sin City. No one here knows me as Special Agent Dallas Bradley or Cody "Hawk" Smith, the man with an indifferent gaze and ink on his arms.

I’m just another patron, passing through, perhaps running an early errand and stopping for a quick grab.

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