Mission: Without a Trace - Nicole Edwards Page 0,51

sake of sex. Not fucking. It was deeper, and quite frankly, so much hotter. But making love didn’t mean slow and gentle and Reese was ready for him to unleash.

“Fuck me,” he ground out, pulling his knees back, shifting his hips, changing the angle of penetration. “Fuck … oh, yes … fuck me.”

Brantley’s guttural growl made his cock pulse. Reese reached between his legs, fisting his cock, jerking it in time to Brantley’s thrusts.

When Brantley caught sight of what he was doing, he sat back, his hands on Reese’s knees, holding his legs in place so he could drive into him again and again.

“I want to watch you come,” Brantley groaned. “Come for me, Reese.”

He stroked himself in rhythm to Brantley’s thrusts. As they increased, so did their breaths. Sweat covered his skin as he sought the release that was lingering just out of reach.

“More,” he ground out. “Brantley … need more.”

Another grunt before Brantley surged into him, their bodies rocking as they united in a cataclysmic explosion of sensation.

“Come for me so I can come inside you,” Brantley demanded.

That was enough to have his back bowing, his cock jerking in his fist. He came with a startled cry, the tension within him shattering. Not long after, Brantley drove into him one final time, his head falling back as he groaned low and deep in his throat.

When Brantley pulled out, Reese grabbed for him, not letting him get away. Brantley was deadweight over him, but Reese didn’t mind. He held him, arms wrapped around his back as they both sucked in air.

They remained like that for a few minutes. Brantley was the one to move first, hoisting himself up, staring down at him.

“You okay?”

“Better than okay,” he said, remembering the first time Brantley had asked him that. It was after their first kiss, right here in this very same bed.

Seemingly content with his answer, Brantley crawled out of bed, headed for the bathroom. Reese heard the sink running, then when the shower came on, he decided to join Brantley.

There was minimal washing that ensued. More kissing and touching than anything.

Before the water could go cold, Reese flipped it off, grabbed two towels, tossing one to Brantley. They dried off, but before Brantley could leave the bathroom, Reese stepped in front of him, reached up, and cupped his face.

“Don’t let me fuck this up,” he whispered, more of a plea than a request. “I don’t wanna fuck this up.”

He couldn’t. Not again. Reese wanted to be what this man needed. Screw his own insecurities. But he needed Brantley’s help.

“You won’t.” Brantley’s hand curled around his cheek in a similar manner, pulling him forward until their foreheads touched. “No more games, Reese. This is it. No more back-and-forth.”

“No more,” he agreed. “But you’ll have to be patient with me.”

Brantley pulled back, grinned. “I’ve got you, baby. Of that you can be certain.”

Reese watched Brantley saunter out of the bathroom. Baby. Brantley had called him baby. Probably should’ve sounded strange. Oddly, it didn’t. In fact, it felt … right.

His heart slammed against his ribs, warmth consuming him.

***

Corinne Greenwood stepped into her apartment and immediately sighed. It was the middle of the night, she’d had a few drinks, was almost certain she was tired, but the instant she closed her door behind her, she was invigorated.

What was it about coming home? Didn’t matter what kind of day—or night, as was the case here—that she’d had, didn’t matter how many times she’d done it, coming home to her apartment in the heart of downtown Austin always gave her a sense of both pride and relief. Smiling, she admired all her things, once again proud to have a place of her own.

She kicked off her heeled sandals at the door, slipped the little clutch she’d taken with her to the bar into her coat pocket before hanging it up in the little closet. Her cell phone buzzed in her hand, a smile instantly forming on her lips.

Nope, she wasn’t quite ready to get to bed. Not when she was in the middle of a rather lovely chat conversation with the man she’d met a couple of hours ago at the wine bar. Felt almost wrong that she was excited to talk to him considering she’d already been talking to another man on Facebook.

But, hey, she was young, she was single, and she was letting fate dictate the way her life played out. Who was she to intervene if the universe wanted to send another handsome, charming