one that was present, too, at other times; the stutter in his chest when he’d first glimpsed Az in Atlantic City. The many times the same had happened before then.
Madigan tried to drown it out by fucking Az harder. He urged him closer to the window and hauled him upright, one arm banded across Az’s chest to help keep him on his feet.
The smack of skin on skin filled the air alongside a chorus of primal grunts, curses, and lust-soaked groans. Sweat dripped onto the floor, and their combined heat fogged the glass in front of them. Madigan lost himself in the perfect harmony of their bodies straining toward release together. In this one thing, he could always count on Azrael. He hated it and loved it in equal measure.
With a cry, he dug his fingers into Az’s skin and let go, riding the orgasm that ripped through him and pulsed from his cock in hot, thick jets that left him shuddering against Az.
Az came a second later, painting the window in front of them with his release.
Panting, Madigan draped over Az’s back until he could draw a full breath again. When he tried to step away, Az reached back and grabbed him, spinning around.
He planted his palms on either of Madigan’s cheeks and pulled him in, kissing Madigan on the mouth before he could protest, though Madigan wasn’t certain he would have anyway. His tongue slid alongside the hot, velvety swipe of Azrael’s, needy and relentless, their spent cocks brushing each other and sending tiny spikes of heat through Madigan.
“This isn’t the solution, you realize,” Az said a moment later when they broke apart to catch their breath.
“It’s worked just fine for us before,” Madigan grumbled. “If it’s not the solution, what the fuck is it?”
“The opening plea for negotiations.”
“There won’t be shit to negotiate if we can’t get out of this sorry fucking mess.” He slipped free of Azrael’s grasp and retrieved the towel from the floor, wiping himself down before tossing the towel to Az and flopping on the couch. He needed another shower, honestly.
Az joined him a second later, and Madigan was surprised to find himself being drawn back against Az’s chest, more surprised that he let it happen. He sank against the other man’s sticky heat, lulled by the slow tide of his breath.
“The easy solution is to let me handle it,” Az said.
Madigan barked out a laugh and angled a look at Az. “No. You can’t do it alone, and we’re not playing the martyr game.”
“Why not? Many of my ilk have been playing it very successfully for years.” Azrael’s eyes flashed with the macabre quip, and Madigan shook his head.
“It won’t work anyway. They know I’m involved, too. We might’ve been able to make this work when we had the advantage of surprise and anonymity, but now that that’s gone we’re screwed.”
“We’re marked.”
“Absolutely,” Madigan agreed.
“High-dollar targets.”
“I’d be insulted if we weren’t.” Madigan scrubbed a hand across his forehead and groaned. “I have no intention of living like a fucking shut-in for the next decade, though. We’re going to need more help and a better plan.”
“We can pool our resources. Come up with something,” Azrael suggested, one hand drifting lightly up and down Madigan’s sweaty torso. Madigan wanted to be uncomfortable, except he wasn’t. He was the opposite, and his best intentions to pull away, to get up and shower again, melted when Azrael brushed a kiss over his temple, then the shell of his ear as he spoke. “I want your forgiveness, motek. I won’t give up.”
Madigan clenched his teeth, then forced his jaw to relax. “I can’t promise you that.” He slipped free of Azrael’s hold and stood, walking to the kitchen. “We need to eat. Then plan. Fortunately, I know some people who owe me some favors.”
17
Azrael
“I suppose you’re all wondering why I’ve called you here today.”
Madigan rolled his eyes at the raven-haired boy in the square box on the computer screen, but Az smirked at the joke. He was pretty, with large blue eyes and brightly colored ink decorating his bare torso. Jonah sat beside the boy, looking irritated but clearly besotted. Az had always wondered if Madi and Jonah had once been a thing, were maybe even still a thing, but the way Jonah looked at the boy told Az everything he needed to know.
“Caspian.” Jonah said the boy’s name like a warning.
Caspian gave Jonah a smug smile. “Are you supposed to be calling me that in front of