happy to see your mouth on my dick,” he countered, gripping Magnus’s hair firmly in his fist.
Magnus’s hazel eyes glittered with heat as Trey guided him to his knees, ensuring he held tight to his hair, wanting him to feel the pain, to know exactly who was in charge now.
Trey watched as Magnus unbuttoned and unzipped him. The man was sexy as fuck, there was no doubt about that. And his mouth… Fucking hell, he had some serious talent. Talent Trey fully intended to take advantage of.
When Magnus freed his cock, Trey exhaled heavily, then inhaled sharply when those lips wrapped around him, enveloping him in soft, wet heat. He never looked away, guiding Magnus’s head, feeding his cock deep into Magnus’s throat.
“God, you’re fuckin’ good at that,” he mumbled, forcing his eyes not to roll back in his head from the pleasure of it.
He thrust his hips, fucking Magnus’s face, knowing they only had a few minutes alone before the others would wonder where they were. He focused his attention on the sexy sight before him, the way Magnus’s eyes bulged when Trey hit the back of his throat. He did it again and again until he couldn’t hold back.
With a grunt, he pushed his hips forward and came right down Magnus’s throat.
Trey didn’t get the chance to linger in post-orgasm bliss, righting his clothes as Magnus got to his feet.
But before Magnus could slip out, Trey pushed him up against the wall and kissed him again. He lingered longer than before, the razor-sharp edge now dulled.
“I look forward to you payin’ me back for that later,” Magnus whispered against his mouth.
Trey pulled back, grinned. “You’re not the only one.”
He let Magnus leave the room ahead of him, then waited a couple of minutes. He glanced down to ensure his clothes weren’t askew, then when he figured the coast was clear, Trey stepped out.
It took effort not to smile.
More so not to think about when they were going to have a chance to do that again.
*
The one-hour flight was uneventful, allowing Reese to catch a few minutes of sleep when Brantley did. He figured Brantley’s reasons had more to do with his training than anything. He’d once mentioned, during his time with the Teams, they were forced to catch sleep when they could during missions. A skill that was obviously still ingrained in him.
When they touched down, they found Decker Bromwell waiting.
“This is the best I could do,” Deck informed them, gesturing toward a ten-year-old Ford Taurus, a seen-better-days Honda Odyssey, and what had probably once been a relatively nice BMW.
“If you were goin’ for inconspicuous, you did good,” Brantley told him.
“And if you were goin’ for reliable, you probably failed miserably,” Baz noted.
“They run,” Deck assured them. “Maybe not for long, but they’ll get the job done.”
Reese was betting they’d crap out sooner rather than later, but for now, they would do. No one expected them to be here long, so if they were lucky, it wouldn’t matter.
“Do we know where she was last seen?” Brantley asked, accepting a set of keys from Deck.
“We’ve got one sighting of her at the Starbucks, another nearby. Two different days.”
“So it’s safe to assume she’s stayin’ somewhere around there?”
“There’s not much ground to cover, to be honest. She could be stayin’ anywhere, including on South Padre for all we know.”
“We’re gonna assume she’s here,” Reese told him. “And we’re gonna do a grid search accordingly. There’s six of us. We go door to door, business to business. Someone’s seen her. It’s just a matter of gettin’ to her before she realizes we’re here.”
“Baz and Deck, y’all can start from the south, work your way north,” Brantley instructed. “Trey and Magnus, work west to east. We’ll take north to south, meet somewhere in the middle.”
Reese opened his go-bag, pulled out a sealed plastic bag, and passed it to Magnus. “We were able to get some of Juliet’s things. If you’re lucky, that’ll have her scent.”
“We’ll see what we can do,” Magnus said, taking the bag. “Adira’s my best, so if she can be tracked, she’ll find her.”
Reese hoped that was the case. He honestly wanted this to be over.
While they were standing in the parking lot at the private airstrip, another plane came in for a landing, this one smaller than the one they’d come in on.
“Just FYI, this isn’t a busy place,” Deck noted. “I’ve been here for two hours and there’ve been no other planes in or out.”
Now there were