Page 23 of In the Nick of Time
“That was kind of you.”
Nick frowned. “Anyone would’ve helped him.”
Doug wasn’t entirely sure about that. And what did that say about humanity? Nothing good. But it did tell him something good about Nick.
“What now?” Nick asked. “Do we have time to find a pet store?”
Back at the hotel room,Doug once again ogled Nick’s ass while Nick searched under the bed for the damn tortoise. He had a nice ass. Nick, not the reptile. What did tortoises’ asses look like? He was pretty sure they had them. They had to, right?
Oh, god, Nick Sedgewick was rubbing off on him. And not in a good way.
“Come here, Tim. We have some nice hay for you.” Nick’s voice was muffled and his ass wiggled. “Do you think we should’ve gotten a leash for him? I don’t want him to escape.”
Doug suppressed a laugh. He was fully aware that Agent Nick Sedgewick did everything he could to yank Doug’s chain, and Doug wanted to know just how far he’d yank it. And he wasn’t going to think too hard about how much more fun he’d had in three days than in all his years with Rich.
“A leash,” Doug repeated. “You really think aturtleis going to escape from us. From you.” Because no way, chain-yanking or not, was he walking a turtle.
Nick’s delectable ass moved again.
“Not a turtle. I’ve never had a pet tortoise before, though, so how would I know? But we all know the tortoise beat the hare. Maybe they just pretend to be slow and then—boom.” He scooted out from under the bed, his butt testing the tensile strength of the fabric protecting it. “They’re crossing the finish line.”
Doug took a step backward, mindful of the younger man and the reptile but also missing the private ass show he’d been enjoying. What could he say? Sedgewick had a very nice butt.
The tortoise looked bigger than Doug remembered.
“Oh, hey.” Nick set Tim to one side and rose to his feet, brushing the lint and whatever else lived under the bed off his slacks. “I should probably change again.”
Without warning, Nick began unbuttoning his dress shirt and left it hanging open, exposing his flat abs and sexy chest, then flicked the clasp on his pants. He shot Doug a knowing smirk. The bastard had been doing that on purpose, as well, just to see if he’d get a rise out of Doug.
He had. Doug’s cock was definitely on board with fucking Nick.
Which was a bad idea. A very bad idea.
Nick stripped down to a pair of sexy black boxers and Doug was entranced.
“What do you think I should wear tonight?” Nick asked, turning to where his suitcase lay, propped open and vomiting a ridiculous amount of clothing. “I wasn’t sure what to bring so I brought just about everything.”
Doug adjusted himself.
“You know what?” Nick said, tapping a finger against his chin. “I’ve figured out what we can do for at least one of the hours we have left before hitting that skanky club tonight. So why get dressed now when I’m just going to get dirty again?”
Without any further warning, Nick tugged the boxers down and off, twirling them on his finger before flinging them across the room like a bad stripper. Spinning around, he collapsed backward onto the bed. The ONLY bed.
“Are you a watcher? Or do you want to join in?”
Doug’s brain must’ve suffered a random power outage—a rolling-brain-blackout—because his decision-making center abruptly switched off and his body made the choice for him. He was kicking his shoes off, unzipping his jeans, and pushing said jeans and boxers off his body before Nick could ask again.
“Get that shirt off. I want to see that chest of yours,” Nick ordered.
The shirt flew off, landing somewhere. Doug didn’t care where. The little voice in his head that usually kept him from doing stupid shit was utterly silent.
Nick was caressing himself with one hand, his eyelids half-closed as he watched Doug.
It had been a long time. Rich had claimed he was tired a lot toward the end. In fact, he’d been too busy wooing his sparkly gigolo.
Doug got on the bed. He was turned on and, bad idea or not, they were doing this.
At least Nick was not shy. “Get over here. I have a present for you.”
