Mission: Without a Trace - Nicole Edwards Page 0,22

his, but this time, Brantley did some touching of his own. He slipped his hands beneath Reese’s T-shirt, drawing the cotton up, urging him to remove it. It was discarded easily, as were their boots, their bodies never separating, tongues continuing to mingle.

Seconds ticked by as Reese undressed them both. When they were finally naked, Reese returned to his position over him, their bodies pressed together from chest to knee, skin stroking skin, lips brushing lips.

Brantley had never made love to a man before. His sexual encounters had always had one main objective. Release. With Reese, it wasn’t about the release, it was about the exploration. Brantley was content to touch and taste, not needing more because this was more. More than he’d known before. No man had ever driven him to madness the way Reese could. Perhaps it was the vulnerability he sensed, or maybe the uncertainty.

Reese’s lips trailed down his jaw, brushing over his neck. He tilted his head and drew in a ragged breath when Reese sucked and licked. When their hips began a delicious grind, their cocks pressed intimately between them, Brantley cupped Reese’s ass, holding him in place while the man continued to torment him with that exquisite mouth.

“Christ … Brantley…”

Reese’s mouth returned to his, the kiss heating, their bodies continuing the easy glide against one another.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” Reese moaned softly. “It’s not enough.”

It would be. Brantley would make sure of it.

He took Reese to the mattress, coming over him, rolling his hips while he took the kiss to the next level. They shared breath while they worked themselves into a frenzy.

“You’re gonna make me come,” Reese warned, his arms banding around him, holding tight.

“Come for me,” Brantley urged, nipping Reese’s lower lip. “Let go, Reese. I’ve got you.”

Reese’s head lifted, his mouth finding Brantley’s again. They were both breathing hard, their moans and groans turning urgent as they chased the elusive release with nothing more than skin-to-skin contact.

Brantley slid his fingers into Reese’s hair, tugged his head to the side, and fastened his mouth to Reese’s neck. He sucked roughly, not caring that he might leave a mark on him. Hell, he wanted to.

“Oh, fuck. Brantley…”

Reese’s hips punched upward as he came.

Brantley felt Reese’s cock pulse, the warmth of his cum as it spilled between their bodies. It triggered his own release and he came on a strangled groan, relaxing on top of Reese when every ounce of his energy drained out of him.

“I don’t know what to do about you,” Reese whispered.

Brantley could think of a few things, but he didn’t say anything, content just to be right where he was.

An hour later, they were sitting down to dinner. While Reese had showered, Brantley’d seasoned several chicken breasts, tossed them on the grill. And while Brantley showered, Reese had cooked them up, put together a couple of sides—poblano peppers and rice, with some ranch-style beans to go with it.

They ate at the bar, the tension from last night and that morning behind them.

Finally.

Chapter Five

The next couple of days were spent going over the details of the case, adding notes, scheduling appointments, and essentially waiting for Corinne Greenwood to be free. The woman was a student at UT and currently under a lot of pressure for mid-terms, so Brantley had given her a reprieve, agreeing to meet on Monday of the next week, a full week and a half away, so they could chat. Although Brantley was the sort to prefer to get things out of the way faster, he figured pushing the issue was pointless. Lauren Tyler had been missing for nine years. He wasn’t sure what a week was going to do now.

Because they weren’t overwhelmed with work, Brantley had suggested they go on the search for some wheels for Reese, figuring it would be easy for the man to walk into a dealership and walk out with a vehicle.

Boy, was he ever wrong. He had sorely overestimated Reese’s desire to get this done as fast as possible.

“This is the third dealership we’ve been to,” Brantley said, though it was unnecessary.

“Third time’s a charm.”

“If you say so.” Brantley exhaled, turning into the drive for what he hoped would be the last Chevy dealership they visited.

As it was, they’d spent the better part of the afternoon test-driving one truck after another for Reese to walk out of each dealership without making a decision. The only explanation Reese had for why he hadn’t picked something out was that he hadn’t found

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