He scrolled through the bullshit emails and opened one from a detective in Vice he knew. Samuel Treyson’s Bentley had been found. That left the McLaren as Treyson’s means of transportation to the warehouse. A cursory glance of the ride share apps on Samuel’s phone hadn’t shown him hiring a car in over a week. He thumbed through the emails again and dismissed the rest. Tossing the covers off, he headed into the small bathroom.
He cranked the shower before he took care of business, shaved, and brushed his teeth. By the time he stepped under the showerhead, steam had fogged his small bathroom into a near-sauna-esque state. Just the way he liked it. He got busy with the soap as he ticked off the laundry list of things he and Kallie needed to get through today. God, what they needed was a break in this case. He swiped his hand over his cock and under his balls. The suds and friction jolted him awake more than hot water and coffee ever could and that was saying something. Kallie’s image filled his mind as he stroked his length. Was it wrong? Probably. Did he care? Not really. He’d made a damn fool of himself last night. All that emo crap he’d spewed was sitting there between them, but there was also an attraction. He felt it, and gauging her reactions in the kitchen last night, she did too.
He leaned against the tile and gently tugged at his balls with one hand while the other slid up and twisted over the head of his cock. His gut curled low and tight. The last time he’d found such an immediate attraction with someone had been during his hitch in the Marine Corps. The attraction hadn’t lasted through divergent assignments and far too much time apart.
He stroked harder. Bringing himself off lately had been as exciting as sanding a plank of wood, methodical and bland. Only this morning, instead of his normal slide and glide, he pictured those beautiful fucking lips around his cock. Kallie’s big brown eyes looking up at him. Yes, God her eyes and that mouth. Lightning seared through him, igniting his fantasy with a million joules of sexed-up satisfaction. He groaned, the sound echoing around him in the small shower. His release thundered up his shaft following the strike of fantasy-laced electricity, and he erupted over his fist as he stroked himself through the orgasm.
He dropped his head into the water and closed his eyes. He needed the case to be over. He needed justice for Treyson’s family, to take his old man away from those fucking bullseyes, and the opportunity to explore something more with Kallie. Three damn good reasons to take down whoever killed Treyson. He turned off the water and grabbed his towel. There was no such thing as a perfect murder. There was something connecting Treyson to his killer. They just needed to find it.
A shiver ran through Brock as he huddled in his car and waited for the defroster to gather enough heat to melt the sheet of ice that had formed under the inch of snow on his windshield. When winter decided to show her face, she did it in grand style. He glanced at his watch before he punched his brother Brody’s picture on his phone. The screen went black for a couple seconds before it rolled into the call. Damn, even the cell phone hated the cold. Winter was no longer coming, the fucker was here, no white-walkers required.
“’lo?” The sleepy rumble of his brother Brody’s voice floated over the connection. Obviously, he’d woken his ass up.
“Hey, man. Got a favor to ask you.”
“Fuuuck… dude, do you know what time it is?”
“7:30.”
“In the fucking morning!”
The shock in Brody’s voice was worth the shit he’d get for the call. His brother had been permanently assigned as sergeant to a joint agency drug enforcement task force operating in Hope City and the J-DET crew worked some crazy fucking hours.
“It is the time normal people go to work.”
“No. No, it isn’t. Normal people go to work at 9:00. They are sleeping for another thirty minutes, minimum.”
“Depends on your definition of normal.”
“You are not normal, bro, you’ve never been normal,” Brody grumped into the phone.
“Right, you don’t want me to drag up your past, now do you?”
“Shut up. What do you want? Tell me so I can say no and go back to sleep.”
The playfulness left as Brock drew a deep breath. “I picked up a