Page 42 of Extradition (Mobsters + Billionaires 1)
Startled, I nod immediately. “Yes. Please.”
He takes a breath and sets the tray on a bedside table. Facing me with a smile, he says, “You and Joe have been stuck in this place for days. Actually, you’ve been stuck indoors for longer than that. Before the security concerns cropped up, you jogged every morning and walked through the park in the evening before coming home.”
“Edgerton hates any environment he can’t control. He’s acting like people are just waiting outside my door, anxious to cause me harm.”
“And I respect his position enormously. But I’ve known you for most of your life, and if we’re on a first-name basis, maybe you won’t mind me saying that I can see how hard this has been on you.” He grasps my shoulder, capturing my gaze. “Rand, trying to follow every rule has left you dying on the vine. You need to take the reins and restore the balance in your life.”
I laugh. “You suggesting a jailbreak, Grayson?”
“I would never suggest going against security protocol. Certainly not by yourself.” He looks behind us, and when he’s satisfied that Edgerton isn’t going to pop out of a hidden corner, he leans in, a conspiratorial look on his face. “But I might imply it.”
I laugh and surprise the hell out of both of us by draping my arm around him in a half-hug. “You inspire me, Grayson. Thank you.”
Grayson bows his head, winking at me as he leaves my room.
Implied, indeed.
* * *
I get up earlyand make a cappuccino for Joe and a triple espresso shot for myself, hoping to entice him into a bit of trouble-making. Just as I’m transferring the caffeinated nectar to insulated mugs, he meanders into the kitchen, his rich brown hair sticking out in every direction. My fingers twitch with the desire to run through the unruly strands.
“That smells divine,” he says, scratching his belly, revealing a dark happy trail that runs from his belly button to just beyond his hazardously low-slung waistline.
I had Grayson buy him proper pajamas, but they run large. I suppose that wouldn’t be so bad if he wore the matching shirt, but Joe prefers his old tank top. The practically see-through one that molds to every cursed muscle.
So. Yeah. Now I’ve seen the v-cut abs I’d only imagined, and after closer examination of the thin drape of material, I’ve determined that Joe isn’t wearing any underwear. The material is flimsy enough for me to suspect that he’s uncircumcised.
I wonder if he likes docking. I’ve never—
I look up and catch his amused expression. Ignoring the heat igniting in my chest and groin, I plow forward into my plan for the day.
“I’m sneaking out of the building and spending the morning in the park. Wanna join me?”
He leans back against the counter, crossing his impressive arms. “Is that why you put my cappuccino in a to-go cup?”
My eyes glide back down to his pajama bottoms. He shifts his hips, and his cock drifts from one side to the other.
If that’s what he looks like relaxed…
“Rand?”
“Huh?”
“I guess we’re taking the caffeine to go.”
“Yeah, if that’s okay with you.”
He’s definitely uncircumcised.
Joe clears his throat, and I tear my eyes away from his crotch. He arches his brow at me, and I quickly refocus on the beverages. When he doesn’t say anything, I chance another look in his direction. Fuck, busted.
Not bothering to hide his bemused expression, he shows a little mercy. “Hell, why not. Give me five minutes, and I’ll be ready to go.”
“Sounds good.”
He heads back to his suite, and I cover my face with my hands. I can’t believe I was just staring at his dick. I need to have Grayson book my regular guy, pronto. Meanwhile, I text to let him know we’ll be ready soon.
True to his word, Joe is back in the kitchen five minutes later, wearing the hell out of Wolfe Athletics’ luxe jogger pants and slimline hoodie. Even our fancy cross-trainers are sexy as hell on him. Our athletic gear is supposed to make people look erudite and wealthy, but he looks like an actual athlete. When he turns to open the refrigerator, I get the full view of his thick, muscular glutes in my joggers.
