Page 23 of Remote Access

Lane brought the vehicle to a stop outside a group of warehouses. Only one street lamp lit the area and they were parked in deep shadows. “I’m going to go er, open that door for us. You drive the van inside, kay?” He jumped out, then leaned back inside. “Oh, the movie isHocus Pocusand your lack of good entertainment knowledge makes me sad.”

With that, he slammed the door shut.

* * *

"Ithink we lost them." Lane bent over, his legs feeling like noodles from what would soon be a crash from the rush of escaping Letsen’s idiot henchman and eluding the sirens. "But we better wait them out a little here." He looked around. Mannequin parts filled tables and lined the walls and in the near darkness of the warehouse, they looked like macabre ghosts. "Wish I'd picked a less creepy place to hide."

Quincy just laughed as he worked to catch his breath. Moonlight streamed down from one of the high windows onto his face.

"You're enjoying yourself," Lane said, surprise making him straighten up. "You lost that, I don't know, look of devastation you wear like a tattoo."

His eyes opened and focused on Lane. "I shouldn't be having as much fun as I am, but I've always enjoyed outwitting bad guys. This time, there aren't as many rules."

"Thought about being a private eye or something?"

Quincy shook his head and a strand of hair caught on the sweat on his chin. He peeled it off. "They have more rules and regulations than you think."

Lane stepped closer, mesmerized by the perspiration glistening on Quincy's strong neck and face, by the sudden welcome he could see in the softening of his mouth. As he stared, Quincy's eyes grew hooded and he reached out and snagged one finger in the waist of Lane's pants. He didn't pull him closer. Didn't move. He just waited to see what Lane's next move was going to be.

He took the last step needed and shoved his hands into the slightly damp hair falling around Quincy's face. The cop was half slumped on the wall, his legs open and braced, so Lane fit right between them and he couldn't help the shudder that shook his entire body when he finally felt that bigger, hard form press against him. The sweat on Quincy's neck felt slick and warm under the heels of his hands.

"What are you doing?" Quincy whispered.

"You know exactly what I'm doing," he answered, his voice low and shaky with the sudden need ripping through him. "I've got all this adrenaline snapping through me and I seem to find your big body hot as hell when it's all sweaty." Without taking his eyes from Quincy's, he slid his hands down and began unbuttoning his shirt.

Quincy grabbed his wrist but didn't say anything. He just held it and stared, but where his breaths had been slowing before, they were now picking back up. Lane thought he was going to let go of his wrist, but instead, he brought Lane's hand to the opening Lane had made and placed his palm on his chest. Hair slick with perspiration met his skin and Lane groaned and hurriedly finished unbuttoning the rest of the shirt.

It fell open and he leaned back to take in the moonlight playing over the hard planes of muscle and round, dark nipples. The big guy was just so virile, so blatantly masculine, he made Lane dizzy with lust. His belly tightened and he was surprised he didn't pass out as all his blood raced to his dick. He put both palms on all that gorgeous skin, loving the crinkle of chest hair under his hands. He stroked his hands across and down, fingers skipping over the ridges of muscle in the man's abdomen.

"I didn't know cops looked like this under their uniforms."

"The ones who care about their bodies do."

Lane licked his lips and forced himself to look at Quincy's face. What he saw there made him curl his fingers, then shove his hands back up to cup Quincy's neck. He couldn't stop smoothing his thumbs over his skin though, not when it was still hot and slick like this. "I don't think I've ever wanted to be naked with someone this badly in my life."

Quincy sucked in a breath and in the next instant, Lane found himself turned and shoved into the wall, pressed hard against all that rigid muscle. He pushed up on his toes. "Too fucking tall," he grouched before biting Quincy's chin.

The man crouched more, shoving one thick thigh between Lane's legs, then pressing it to his hard dick.

"Oh fuck," Lane breathed. “Your jaw okay?”

“Feeling no pain at the moment.”

Lane’s head spun as lust and shock warred inside him because the pleasure that raced so hard and fast through him held too much strength—like it had been building with foreplay for a while when they had just begun. "So going to embarrass myself."

"We've barely done anything," Quincy said, breath hot on Lane's face. "Haven't even kissed."

"Adrenaline, remember?"

Lips touched his cheek, strong hands cradled his neck, thumbs pushing up his chin so Quincy could nip and lick at his jaw. "Is that what this is?"

"Yes. No. You're just hot. Crazy hot."

"And way too old for you."

He frowned at the note of self-recrimination in Quincy's words. He wasn't a child, so he didn't see the problem. "We're not getting married here. It's just fucking."

"Who said we're gonna fuck?"

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