Page 300 of Labor of Love

Micah

I was hoping the leftover adrenaline from earlier was what was causing the warmth under my skin.

Wrong.

From the building heat at the base of my spine to the way Nash’s dark gaze had been following me from the moment I stepped out of the shower, I knew I was in heat. Omegas like me usually had a heat every six weeks or so. The military-grade suppressants I was on because of my job on S.W.A.T. meant mine were usually a little further apart. Roughly everythree months, I’d have several days where I felt like shit while simultaneously being a horny—sometimes emotional—mess. Good times.

I walked toward my locker, noticing that everyone else seemed to have cleared out. Everyone except Nash, of course.

He was sitting astride the bench in the aisle between the two rows of lockers that our team used. His locker was directly across from mine. Which didn’t always make it easy to keep my eyes to myself.

“That was a great shot today, man,” I said as I pulled open my locker door and grabbed my boxer briefs. I stepped into them, sliding them up my legs beneath the towel wrapped around my waist. I wasn’t going to let him see my dick chubbing out if I could help it. Not that he didn’t already know. Nash and I had slept together enough times that I was sure he knew all my scents. The same way I knew his.

Right now, his scent was telling me how much he didn’t care about the shot that had probably saved my life today. He was much more invested in the slick working its way down to my hole.

“Nash,” I said when he didn’t respond.

He shook his head. “Sorry. I’m glad we got those hostages out without injury.”

“Me too.”

His gaze dropped down my torso, nostrils flaring as my heat continued to build.

Keeping my voice low, I said, “We said last time was the last time.”

He tore his gaze away from my bare chest and cleared his throat. With a shake of his head, he got to his feet and took a step away from me. “I know. Sorry.”

I grabbed a shirt and pulled it on, turning my back on him before I dropped my towel and put on my pants. “It’s alright. Believe me, saying no isn’t what I want to do.”

It wasn’t that we weren’t compatible or even that we were both S.W.A.T. It’s that we were on the same squad—the best squad—and as much as we liked fucking each other senseless every now and again, it was against the rules. So far, it hadn’t been an issue because it was just sex, and it didn’t affect our working relationship. But if it continued, we’d both be jeopardizing our positions on the squad we’d been dreaming of being part of since our bright-faced academy days.

But the aching emptiness building low in my body was battering at my better judgment. What would one more time really hurt?

I watched Nash take one more step back before I spoke. “My place or yours?”

Nash

My pulse was throbbing in my dick before I even got out of my truck in front of Micah’s apartment building. When he’d dropped his towel in the locker room, the scent of his slick had nearly bowled me over. It had taken every last ounce of my willpower to take one more step away from him before he said the words I’d been dying to hear.

Now, I was here and couldn’t wait to get Micah behind a closed door. Couldn’t wait to get my hands on his skin, to get my lips against his.

When we were on the job, it was easier to pretend that co-workers and friends were all we were, but in the privacy of one of our homes, it was impossible for me to maintain that pretense.

I wanted Micah. All the time. Wherever we were.

“Are you coming?” Micah called from the door of his building. I hurried in his direction, a ridiculous smile stretching my face.

He took one look at me when I was only a few steps away and broke out into a matching grin. ”Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything!” I laughed, grabbing the door he was holding open for me before following him up the stairs to his second-floor apartment.

“Your face did.” He stopped in front of his door, getting the key in the lock.

I crowded up behind him, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the side of his neck and sliding my palms under the front of his t-shirt, teasing across the hard ridges of his abdomen.

“Fuck,” he said, low and fervent, the keys shaking in his hand as he tried to get the knob open. “You’re making this difficult.”

I nibbled at the shell of his ear and whispered, “Where’s that legendary control, Sergeant?”

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