Read Online Cut and Run 7 - Touch and Geaux by Abigail Madeleine u Roux Urban - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Abigail Madeleine u Roux Urban
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He reached for Ty’s cock and squeezed.
Ty’s hands found their way into Zane’s hair, and he continued to kiss him, holding him there by his wet curls as Zane stroked him. “Next time we do this, I’m bending you over that balcony,” Ty said. His voice was just as strained and taut as his body.
Ty bit Zane’s lip, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough that Zane knew he was getting worked up.
“C’mon, Ty. Let me see you come. So fucking gorgeous when you come.”
“Jesus, Zane, stop talking,” Ty gritted out.
Zane laughed. He heard another sound from the room and turned his head to glance out the door. “Did you hear that?”
Ty growled low in his throat. “No.” He swiped at Zane’s cum, still sliding down his neck and chest, gathered it all into his palm, and replaced Zane’s hand on his cock with his own. Zane leaned back, expecting the kind of show that Ty was so good at, but then Ty tugged at his shoulder and turned him around. Zane’s chest hit the tile as Ty pressed against him from behind.
“Fuck, Ty,” Zane gasped out as he realized what he was really going to get. “God, yeah.”
Ty’s cock was already pushing at him, Ty’s lips on his neck, his body hard and wet against Zane’s. Then the head of his cock, slicked with Zane’s cum, pressed against the tight muscles of Zane’s ass. Zane pushed his hips back and Ty thrust up against him, the slick head sliding between Zane’s legs. He didn’t enter him, though he came close.
Ty smacked a hand over Zane’s mouth and buried his face against Zane’s shoulder. His other hand wrapped around Zane’s chest. He drove his hips against Zane’s ass, using Zane’s own cum to slick the way, using Zane’s body for the friction he needed.
Ty grunted against Zane’s shoulder and dragged his teeth over Zane’s skin, tightening his hold as he came. Zane could feel Ty’s cum sliding over his ass even as Ty continued to thrust against him. He was making a messy job of it as the water ran over them. It stole Zane’s breath and made his knees weak.
Zane reached behind him, dragging his hands along Ty’s ribs. When Ty finally stopped moving, he let his hand slide from Zane’s mouth and pulled Zane’s head around into a slow, languid kiss.
“Now go see what the hell that noise was,” Zane mumbled as soon as he was able.
“Not exactly Casanova, are you?” Ty kissed him again, licking at his lips. “But if you insist.”
He pushed away and left Zane in the shower to clean up. When Zane finally joined him, he found Ty standing at the foot of the bed, still dripping wet, looking at a stack of folded towels.
“It was a maid?” Zane asked.
“Looks like. Way to ruin the post-orgasm buzz with paranoia, Garrett.”
Zane laughed. He stepped behind Ty and wrapped him up in the towel he had around his shoulders, pressing against Ty’s back. He kissed his neck. “Let me make it up to you then.”
Zane hadn’t heard his real name spoken in almost six months. Two weeks after his wife’s funeral, Zane had begged for a new assignment, part of him hoping a change of scenery would make him want to kill himself less, and the other part hoping for an assignment so dangerous he wouldn’t have to do it himself. He’d been undercover in Miami ever since, nothing but pure luck and an overdeveloped sense of justice keeping him alive. He wanted to see these bastards go down, and he’d do whatever it took.
He’d found it hard to sleep when he’d first arrived in Miami, a combination of on-the-job jitters and missing his wife so much it felt like his soul was dying. He’d begun drinking to combat the dreams.
A few weeks after that, he’d started popping uppers to combat the hangovers, and sometimes even in a bid to mimic sobriety. He found that it worked for his cover, and it simultaneously dulled and sharpened his mind to the point that all he thought of was the case at hand, like a pen light for his brain. He would do anything to get the
Ty’s hands found their way into Zane’s hair, and he continued to kiss him, holding him there by his wet curls as Zane stroked him. “Next time we do this, I’m bending you over that balcony,” Ty said. His voice was just as strained and taut as his body.
Ty bit Zane’s lip, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough that Zane knew he was getting worked up.
“C’mon, Ty. Let me see you come. So fucking gorgeous when you come.”
“Jesus, Zane, stop talking,” Ty gritted out.
Zane laughed. He heard another sound from the room and turned his head to glance out the door. “Did you hear that?”
Ty growled low in his throat. “No.” He swiped at Zane’s cum, still sliding down his neck and chest, gathered it all into his palm, and replaced Zane’s hand on his cock with his own. Zane leaned back, expecting the kind of show that Ty was so good at, but then Ty tugged at his shoulder and turned him around. Zane’s chest hit the tile as Ty pressed against him from behind.
“Fuck, Ty,” Zane gasped out as he realized what he was really going to get. “God, yeah.”
Ty’s cock was already pushing at him, Ty’s lips on his neck, his body hard and wet against Zane’s. Then the head of his cock, slicked with Zane’s cum, pressed against the tight muscles of Zane’s ass. Zane pushed his hips back and Ty thrust up against him, the slick head sliding between Zane’s legs. He didn’t enter him, though he came close.
Ty smacked a hand over Zane’s mouth and buried his face against Zane’s shoulder. His other hand wrapped around Zane’s chest. He drove his hips against Zane’s ass, using Zane’s own cum to slick the way, using Zane’s body for the friction he needed.
Ty grunted against Zane’s shoulder and dragged his teeth over Zane’s skin, tightening his hold as he came. Zane could feel Ty’s cum sliding over his ass even as Ty continued to thrust against him. He was making a messy job of it as the water ran over them. It stole Zane’s breath and made his knees weak.
Zane reached behind him, dragging his hands along Ty’s ribs. When Ty finally stopped moving, he let his hand slide from Zane’s mouth and pulled Zane’s head around into a slow, languid kiss.
“Now go see what the hell that noise was,” Zane mumbled as soon as he was able.
“Not exactly Casanova, are you?” Ty kissed him again, licking at his lips. “But if you insist.”
He pushed away and left Zane in the shower to clean up. When Zane finally joined him, he found Ty standing at the foot of the bed, still dripping wet, looking at a stack of folded towels.
“It was a maid?” Zane asked.
“Looks like. Way to ruin the post-orgasm buzz with paranoia, Garrett.”
Zane laughed. He stepped behind Ty and wrapped him up in the towel he had around his shoulders, pressing against Ty’s back. He kissed his neck. “Let me make it up to you then.”
Zane hadn’t heard his real name spoken in almost six months. Two weeks after his wife’s funeral, Zane had begged for a new assignment, part of him hoping a change of scenery would make him want to kill himself less, and the other part hoping for an assignment so dangerous he wouldn’t have to do it himself. He’d been undercover in Miami ever since, nothing but pure luck and an overdeveloped sense of justice keeping him alive. He wanted to see these bastards go down, and he’d do whatever it took.
He’d found it hard to sleep when he’d first arrived in Miami, a combination of on-the-job jitters and missing his wife so much it felt like his soul was dying. He’d begun drinking to combat the dreams.
A few weeks after that, he’d started popping uppers to combat the hangovers, and sometimes even in a bid to mimic sobriety. He found that it worked for his cover, and it simultaneously dulled and sharpened his mind to the point that all he thought of was the case at hand, like a pen light for his brain. He would do anything to get the
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