Play Dirty (Wages of Sin #2) - Neve Wilder Page 0,19

but it sparked an awareness in him on a molecular level—smoke and spice and more than a little sweat. It was admittedly distracting, but only because Madigan refused to give them what they both wanted. Hell, what they both needed.

Madi grunted, wiggling his large shoulders, crowding Az closer to the wall in some aggressive show of dominance that made Az’s cock take notice. He laughed despite his body’s reaction, shaking his head. Madigan was a ridiculous man on many levels, too proud, too stubborn, but it was almost impossible to ignore his heat soaking through Az’s shirt as they sat there, bodies pressed together.

“Are you sure your intel was right? We’ve been here for six hours, and this place is quiet as a church. I haven’t seen so much as a shadow pass the window,” Madi grumbled.

“I thought snipers were trained to sit quietly for hours? Days, if necessary?” Az murmured, still watching the road leading to the compound.

“Snipers work alone.”

“Well, as you said, there is another window about four feet to your right. You wouldn’t be alone, but you also wouldn’t be distracted by my presence.”

“I’m not distracted by you,” Madi said, sounding slightly amused by Az’s assumption.

Az did lower his binoculars then, skimming his hand along Madi’s thigh, inching his way to his crotch, just as he’d done that morning in the plaza. “No? Not even a little?”

Madi didn’t respond, but an incremental shift of his weight followed, and suddenly, Az had more access, almost like Madi’s body did it without conscious thought. Az caressed him through the fabric of his pants, his thumb tracing along the zipper, smiling as he felt Madi’s cock hardening at his touch. Hm. Not a bit distracted.

“If I took your cock out and jerked you right here, would you be able to stay on task?” Az asked, tone as casual as if he was discussing the weather.

Madi exhaled slowly through his nose. “Yes, not that you’ll ever know because we have ground rules.”

Az snorted. “Just one ground rule, and whose fault is that?”

“The rules are to keep us from distraction.” Madi’s voice hitched slightly as Az traced the outline of his thick cock with his thumb and forefinger, squeezing before pressing his palm against him. Az’s cock took notice as the tiniest of wet spots appeared on the outside of Madi’s pants. Az made a noise of appreciation as Madi grunted, his hips rocking into the pressure of Az’s hand, even as he growled, “Stop it.”

“Why?” Az asked. “Are you distracted? If you had simply let me fuck you this morning, I’d wager you’d be much more focused right now.” Az leaned in to run his tongue along the corded tendon of Madi’s neck. “We would both be focused and much more satisfied.”

There was a slight uptick in Madi’s breathing. “We’ve got movement,” he snapped.

“Yes, it seems we do,” Az said, still fondling Madi’s erection.

“Az, there’s a truck on the road.”

Az snapped to attention, snagging his binoculars, frowning as he pointed them back toward the street made of dirt and broken pavement. Madi was right. It wasn’t a truck, exactly. It was more a trailer of sorts, the kind people rented for moving. As they watched, it slowed at the entrance. After a moment, the large iron gate began to retract, allowing the truck to go through.

Az leaned in, as if that could somehow make what was happening clearer. A short, round man wearing white linen pants and a matching shirt exited the house, trailed by two men carrying assault rifles.

At Madigan’s slight movement and the way he let out a breath, Az touched his shoulder gently. “Don’t. Practice some of that patience you claim to have. If you take him out now, we have no shot at Bennington later. He’s a recluse. He never leaves his house. We’ve got one shot at him.”

“Fuck Bennington, DiMarco is right there.”

A man opened the passenger side door of the truck, a rifle in one hand and a gun strapped to his hip. He gave a nod to DiMarco and his men and moved to the back of the truck.

“Guns? Drugs?” Az asked.

“If so, they're moving a fuckton of product. I know they’ve moved some of the distribution out of Columbia. Maybe?”

They didn’t have to wait long for the reveal. The driver appeared and unlocked the truck, pushing open the door and gesturing emphatically. Az growled low as men and women began to pour from the truck, one after the other, each in various stages