Neutral Zone Trap - Bianca Sommerland Page 0,5

wore now. One that said he knew who was really in control.

The only reason Ryan had even fucked the man was because he couldn’t quite put his finger on why the asshole made him so uncomfortable until much later, when he’d pieced together the little things. The way Michel spoke. The way he looked at people. The way other submissives avoided him. There were whispers that he didn’t respect the club’s rules of consent, but no one ever came forward. It was still enough to get him banned from that club, but there must not have been any complaints here.

Yet.

Ryan would give Terry a heads up when he had a chance. This was the first time he’d seen Michel skulking around the joint. And it would damn well be the last.

No way was he letting him anywhere near the young man who’d caught both their eyes.

He gave Michel a cold look. “Don’t test me.”

“Test you? Whatever do you mean?” Michel let out a light laugh. “This could be fun. Let’s see which of us he’ll choose.” His lips curved. “Unless you’d like to share?”

“Like fuck.” All right, Ryan was done playing nice. He stepped forward, forcing Michel back. “You have two choices. You leave now, or I’ll ask Terry if I can do him the favor of escorting you out.”

With a little pout, Michel made a dismissive gesture and turned away. “No need to be so dramatic. This place is boring anyway. Everyone’s so uptight.”

“Be careful, Michel.” Ryan’s eyes narrowed when Michel snorted, inching his way through the tight crowd toward the door. “Next time I see you, it might be in a more official capacity.”

At that, Michel turned, feigned shock on his face. “I hope not, Detective. But if it pleases you, sir, I shall be on my best behavior.”

Not good enough, but unless someone felt safe filing a report, there was nothing else Ryan could do. He would be asking around though. His job was to protect people from predators like Michel.

For tonight, he’d protected one.

Which should have been the end of it. He’d observed Braxton for a bit, realized Terry was in momma-bear mode, and considered looking elsewhere for the night’s entertainment. That would’ve been smarter.

Instead he convinced himself it wouldn’t hurt to talk to the young man. Sat close to him and took in his hesitant smiles, the way he moved, the longing and hunger in his eyes as he was far too honest about why he’d come.

Then he showed Ryan that damn mesh shirt. Fuck him, he wasn’t good at resisting temptation and that was exactly what Braxton was. Every sleek, tightly muscled, wiry inch of him begged for Ryan’s touch. Ryan battled with the protective urges in his head and gave in to the lust overpowering it.

No matter what, Braxton would be going home with someone tonight. He was practically vibrating with need. Need that Ryan could satisfy.

Tonight.

Only tonight. He couldn’t offer more. But he could make sure Braxton was safe. And give him an experience he’d never forget.

Once they reached his car, Ryan glanced over at Braxton, frowning as the young man reached for the door handle. Without knowing more than his name, Braxton was ready to just drive off with him. Which, with the wrong person, could end up with him being another cold case sitting on Ryan’s desk.

“Take a picture of my license plate and send it to a friend.” Ryan held Braxton’s gaze when the man blinked at him. “You don’t know me. There’s the possibility that I rented the car under a fake name, but at least it’s some way to track me—or anyone else you’re leaving a public setting with—if you go missing.”

Braxton’s cheeks flushed. He folded his arms over his chest. “Should I be worried? You sound like a cop.”

“I am one.” Amusement slanted Ryan’s lips when Braxton stared at him. “Unless you used a fake ID to get into the club, you have nothing to worry about.”

“I didn’t.” Braxton hiked up his chin, all defensive now. “Do you want to double check while I get that picture of your license plate? Make sure this is all legit and everything?”

“No need. Gordon’s good at spotting fakes.” He looked over Braxton thoughtfully. “I don’t put you much past twenty, though.”

“I’m nineteen.” Braxton hugged himself a little tighter. “Too young?”

“Yes and no. But like I told you earlier, I was your age once. And lucky enough to get with a few older men who treated me well.” Which was