Page 123 of Prince Charming

When Marco slid the money into his pocket, he was smiling.

If Tag was right in reading his signals, the guy was about to bark up the wrong tree and flirt with him.

“You could always thank me. I’mverygood at passing on messages.” He stepped forward toward Tag. The two men were not the same height, and Marco had to tip his head back to look up at him. “Try me, see if I’m lying.”

Tag bet that smolder in his voice worked on gays far and wide. He arched a brow. “I’ll pass.”

“Aww.” Pouted Marco. “Seems a shame to waste all those muscles.”

If he wasn’t so cold, tired, and needing to be back in bed with his girl, he might have laughed at the blatant come on. But the second Marco put a hand on Tag’s chest and leaned in, he didn’t find it funny anymore. “Straight boys are my favorite flavor,” Marco shared, “just ask the Mayor’s right-hand man,helikes how I take messages.”

Then the little prick dared to move that hand to Tag’s junk.

Tag grabbed it, twisting it back, and then he put his other hand on Marco’s throat, pushing him up against the driver’s door. “Unless I ask you to cop a feel of my junk, you keep your greedy mitts to yourself. Wheeze if you understand.”

The guy didn’t look a bit scared. Pleasured was more on the money.

Right then, the back-door window whirred down, startling him. He hadn’t known someone else was in the car. “For God’s sake, stop taunting the biker, Marco, or he might kill you and I don’t have time to attend your funeral this week.”

Tag released him and stepped back.

Marco was grinning like a damn lunatic, rubbing his throat, he beamed a sappy grin at Tag. “Sorry, Boss. Just wanted to feel how strong a champion was.”

“Forgive my boy, Tag. He’s a damn pain slut and will get a fix anywhere he can. Get in the car, you little shit.” He said it with affection.

Tag would never understand these New Yorkers.

Marco climbed into the car, winking at Tag, and making the ‘call me’ motion with his hand.

He switched his gaze to Jay Benz, who asked. “Is everything satisfactory?”

“Yeah,” Tag answered, “thanks.”

“Happy to do business with the Renegade Souls. You know how to reach me if you need anything else. Give my best to Penn.” The window whirred up, and the car pulled away from the curb. He watched it until it turned the corner away from his street, and then he headed back inside.

Dumping his coat and boots, he climbed the stairs, knowing who he was going back to had his stomach muscles tightening.

As quiet as he was when he dropped his clothes to the bedroom floor, she still stirred beneath the sheets when he slid himself into bed. As badly as he wanted to tell her what he had for her, he knew she needed her rest.

“Go to sleep, darlin’.” He said, gathering her in.

She whimpered, and it was no sex whimper.

“What’s wrong, Anna?”

“Headache.”

Poor love.

He kissed her forehead, holding her extra tight as he massaged the back of her neck. She all but climbed on top of him, making Tag pump out a satisfied grunt.

Her face found a place on the side of his neck, she burrowed in and something dirty snapped inside Tag. He should encourage her to go back to sleep. He’d already gone too hard on her.

But what kind of man would he be if he didn’t sort out her pain, huh?

A hand slid down into the back of her little panties.

She whined without words. Her breath stuttered when his fingers nestled between her legs and found her wetness from behind.

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