Play Dirty (Wages of Sin #2) - Neve Wilder Page 0,86
against the cinderblock wall bearing both of their weight as they came down. He stroked Az’s abdomen, then lower to his balls, lightly over his shaft, and tucked him gently away while still deep inside him. Kissing the nape of Az’s neck, he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked them clean of Az’s taste before easing out of him and tracing a finger gently around his rim. Then tugged Az’s pants back up. “I like that you’re going into this party full of my cum.”
Az twisted around to kiss him. “You’re territorial that way, yes.” He smiled when Madigan’s brows flickered together, uncertain whether that was a compliment or complaint. Once again, Az anticipated him. “I enjoy that about you. Come on. We’ll be late.”
Madigan fixed his clothing, and the two of them descended the rest of the stairs and exited onto the sidewalk.
Across the street, Wired was decked out for the holidays. Even the staff entrance at the back of the building featured a wreath. Levi, the original Red Queen’s widow and owner of Wired along with a heap of other clubs, opened the door before Madigan could reach for the handle.
With a wide grin, he wrapped Madigan in a tight hug, always the touchy feely half of the couple. Madigan returned it warmly before Levi stepped away, his gaze moving to Az next. “I’ve heard much about you but never expected to meet you in person. At least, not in any capacity I’d want to.” He winked and extended his hand.
“I’ve been instructed to be on my best behavior.” Az took his hand and shook it.
“There’s no such thing with him,” Madigan said.
“Much to your delight, I’m sure.” Levi gestured them inside before leading them down a dim hallway covered in Christmas bunting and oversized holiday lights to one of the club’s private rooms where a long table was set. Pine garland and red candles nestled among the greenery scented the air pleasantly.
A glance around the room revealed a table filled with gifts, another table featuring appetizers, a punch bowl, and then a final table with ice buckets of champagne on top. Madigan strolled toward the gift table with the two wrapped presents they’d brought with them.
“I wasn’t expecting something so…cozy,” Azrael murmured from behind him.
“No shit.” Madigan deposited the gifts on the table. “Trust me, if the planning had been left to me, Jonah, or Sadie, it would’ve looked primitive by comparison.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
Madigan shot him a glare. “I think you’re supposed to counter argue there. Isn’t that what couples do? Support each other and lie to them when necessary? Did you learn nothing about communication during our last session with Eastman?”
He tried and failed to maintain his stern expression when Az caressed his jaw and then drew him closer, lips moving along his cheek until they reached his ear. “Was that not love, appreciation, and support I was communicating moments ago when you were fucking me into that cinderblock wall, hmm?” The nip to Madigan’s earlobe traveled straight to his cock. “At some point, you’ll realize I hardly care what my surroundings are like as long as you’re within sight.”
Madigan slid his hand up the length of Azrael’s torso, splaying his hand over the man’s heart to feel its steady beat. “Maybe I’ve already realized it and just like to hear you say these things.”
Azrael’s smile said he was well aware.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Sadie’s here.” Madigan swiveled toward the entrance with a laugh.
“You said memorial service and low-key gift exchange, Levi. This doesn’t look low-key, it looks like…like an actual event,” she said with undisguised disgust.
Levi smiled sweetly at her, taking the butcher paper wrapped gift from under her arm. “I wanted you to come, so I fudged the truth. Besides, Christmas was one of Red’s favorite holidays. Even you wouldn’t begrudge a widow wanting to properly honor his dead husband, would you?” He cocked his head sternly at Sadie.
Sadie fixed him with a dead-eyed stare that stretched for a long handful of seconds before she huffed out a sigh. “Goddammit.” She signaled defeat with a flourish of her hand, then stomped toward an ornate sterling silver punch bowl on one of the side tables. “This better be fucking alcoholic,” she growled as she dipped a cup into the liquid. She tossed it back like a shot and nodded with satisfaction before inclining her chin toward Az and Madigan. “Happy holidays, jerkoffs. How’s the shoulder? You realize, Azrael, that you’ve now got