Page 54 of Undercover
Sticking my badge to my forehead felt like overkill, so I focused on trying to get my resting pissed-off face under control.
Judging by the disapproving frown I got from the male half of the sunhat couple, I hadn’t succeeded. Maybe I should’ve shaved. Oh well.
The park regulars should’ve been used to me by now, anyway. I’d resisted the urge to stalk the bookstore, and Gabe by extension. Yes, I could’ve found a spot to unobtrusively watch for him. Hell, I could’ve staked out his apartment.
This park was the closest I’d been willing to come to that. I had to leave it in the hands of…fate, maybe? Gabe, definitely. The ball had to be in his court. And if I’d taken the whole week off after all, so that I could hang around the park and hope Gabe went to the bookstore, got my books, and walked home this way, well. That was between me, fate, and the guy in the sunhat.
It felt like a hallucination when I glanced at the northern end of the park and saw a slim figure with bright pink hair carrying a shopping bag. Bright pink shoes, too. Tight jeans and a hoodie, and big sunglasses.
Gabe. I thought I might throw up. Should I stand? Sit where I was? Walk toward him, or maybe run at him, throw myself on my knees, and beg?
I couldn’t tell if he’d seen me. Those sunglasses completely hid his eyes, and he didn’t waver, didn’t show any physical tells. Just kept walking until he reached the fork in the path that’d either take him up the hill and directly toward his place, or along the length of the park to pass by me.
Gabe hesitated. He took a step along the path away from me. Jesus, I was going to have a stroke before he made up his mind.
And then Gabe turned briskly and strode my way, and my heart beat a rhythm more suited to dubstep, irregular and pounding and sickening. I stayed where I was. If I stood up, I’d be looming over him, and we all knew how that’d turned out last time, right? With me shoving him against a wall and kissing the hell out of him.
Okay, so he’d pulled on my jacket and got me off-balance. But I’d pinned him.
Gabe stopped right in front of me. His white knuckles around the handles of the shopping bag belied the casual hand-on-hip he had going on. I looked up. I still couldn’t see his eyes, but his lips had parted a little, and his chest rose and fell a little too quickly for someone who’d been taking a leisurely Tuesday stroll.
“Someone bought me all these heavy books,” he said, his voice almost steady. Almost. “I don’t really feel like carrying them all the way up the hill.”
I stood, and it put us toe to toe, chest to chest. Not eye to eye, since he wasn’t tall enough. But it gave me a great view of his pink hair, and a lungful of the scent of him: lemony and fresh and a little bit like fresh sweat from walking around. And wine. My chest clenched. If I’d driven him to a lunchtime drink, maybe I should’ve reconsidered my grand gesture.
“Anything good? Or does he have bad taste?”
Gabe tipped his head back a little, and his sunglasses slid down his nose. Blue-gray gleamed through the gap. He blinked, a sweep of golden lashes. “He picked me, right? So he can’t have such bad taste?”
Relief welled up, so powerful and overwhelming I nearly went to my knees after all.
“No,” I said, my voice rough. “He has great taste.”
Something brushed against my hand. Gabe’s fingers, delicately stroking over the back of my hand. I caught his in mine, trying not to crush him, so desperate for that little contact of skin on skin that my head spun.
“Come on,” Gabe said softly. “Walk me home. But you don’t have to leave me at the door this time.”
Gabe
The front door of my condo thudded shut, and the book bag fell from my hands, thumping to the floor and falling over, spilling its contents.
My back hit the door as Alec’s mouth found mine, his hands clutching at my sides and the weight of his body shoving me against it. He kissed me like he had the night we’d spent together, desperate and hungry and with all his self-control burned away in a flash, like dry grass in a wildfire. I pushed his jacket off his shoulders, tore at his belt buckle, slipped my hands under the hem of his shirt. I needed him. I needed to feel him. Nothing else mattered with that longing pounding in my veins and echoing in my frantic heartbeat.
The jacket went flying and then Alec’s hands were all over me again, sliding over my back, gripping my hips almost too hard.
He’d gotten my jeans open, somehow, and when he palmed my cock I moaned and arched up into his touch, throbbing and already halfway there just from the pressure of his hand.
Alec shoved the jeans and my briefs down and spun me around. My burning face hit the cool wood of the door, and I closed my eyes and bit my lip as his hands skimmed the curve of my ass.
His mouth followed. He’d gone to his knees behind me. I tried to spread my legs, but my jeans restricted my range of motion too much. Alec tugged my hips until I had my ass sticking out, my arms braced against the door. His hot mouth pressed kisses along my cheeks, and he opened me up with his thumbs.
The first stroke of his tongue had me keening, almost sobbing with how good it felt. He swirled his tongue in slow circles, stopping to prod my hole with the tip of it, softening me and getting me wet. When he buried his face between the cheeks of my ass and pushed his tongue inside, I couldn’t take it anymore. I got a hand on my cock and stroked, the relief nearly too intense, coming in spurts all over the door, shuddering, with Alec’s agile tongue still forcing its way inside me.
My vision whited out for a minute, and I couldn’t feel anything but the throb of my cock and the clenching of my muscles, everything narrowed down to the heat of his mouth and the grip of my hand.
He stood, and I heard the rasp of a zipper. A moment later, his erection rubbed down my crease, catching against my hole. He pushed, not enough to get inside, but enough that I knew he could. The thick head of his cock stretched my opening, all my oversensitized nerves screaming for less, for more, foreverything.
I pushed back against him, taking him a fraction deeper. With only his spit, it wasn’t quite slippery enough. I wanted him to force his way inside anyway. Slam all the way home, take me up against the door. Make me scream.
