Wait for Morning (Sniper 1 Security #1) (32 page)

Key word was
shouldn’t
because he damn sure couldn’t convince his body that it
didn’t crave what Z had to offer. Until recently, Ryan was pretty damn sure
he’d done a good job of hiding his interest. Now … not so much, but only
because he was damn tired of playing the game. At thirty-three, Ryan was tired
of playing all the games.

It wasn’t a secret that Ryan was gay. Nor
was it a secret that Z was. However, there was a significant difference between
the two of them when it came to how they handled their relationships. Ryan
didn’t have time for casual encounters, but that seemed to be all that Z filled
his spare time with. It irked the shit out of Ryan, but he knew he had
absolutely no right to care.

“Right now?” Ryan questioned, trying to
rein in his thoughts.

“The sooner the better. If you can’t meet
me, I’ll come to you,” Z told him, and Ryan’s thoughts immediately detoured
right into the gutter.

“I’m at Bryce’s,” he told Z. It wasn’t
that he was inviting Z to come over, but honestly, he wasn’t sure he’d be able
to venture out of the house without the risk of killing himself. He was dead on
his feet, having been running on nothing but pure adrenaline for something
close to forty-six hours, and truthfully, he just wanted to close his eyes. For
a solid twelve.

“I’ll be there in half an hour,” Z told
him.

Great. Just fucking great. “Then meet me
at my place,” Ryan told him. “I’ll head over there now.”

With that, the line disconnected.

Having no idea why he’d put himself in
that situation, Ryan dropped the phone onto the cushion beside him and tried to
ignore the fact that he was going to be alone with Z in half an hour.

In the meantime, maybe if he mainlined
coffee and took a shower, he’d find the energy to deal with whatever Z needed
to talk about. And at the same time, maybe he’d be able to conceal his body’s
reaction to him. As it was, the mere sound of Z’s voice had left him in need of
a shower—a fucking cold one.

Ryan managed to make it to his house. Although
the trek had only taken him three minutes, it had seemed like three hours. His
eyes felt as though someone had dusted them with sand, his limbs as though they
were made of rubber. He was so damn tired but mentally too wired to sleep. He
hadn’t even had the energy to take that cold shower.

A knock on his front door signaled Z’s
arrival, and instead of forcing his tired ass up off the couch to answer the
door like a normal human, he merely hollered, informing Z that the door was
open.

From his perch on the couch, he watched Z
come inside, his big body filling the entryway as Z’s inquisitive gaze traveled
around the room briefly before landing on Ryan. And remaining there.

Heat took the place of the exhaustion, and
Ryan tried to act as though his body’s reaction to Z wasn’t abnormal. Truth
was, these days, any reaction to another man was abnormal. It seemed that Ryan
had been interested in Z for longer than he cared to admit. Too bad that was as
far as he could take the infatuation. Anything more would be stupid.

“What’s up?” Ryan asked, turning his head
and staring up at the ceiling. He was still lying on the couch, unable to
muster the energy to sit up.

“You okay?”

“Never fucking better,” Ryan lied.

When Z came to sit on the arm of the sofa
near his feet, Ryan was tempted to move but didn’t.

“Something wrong?”

“Don’t know yet,” Z answered.

“Does it have to do with a case?” Now Ryan
was curious. Z wasn’t the type to show concern unless there really was a reason
to.

“I got a call from Isaac this mornin’.”

Okay, so lying down was no longer an
option. Somehow he managed to force his feet to the floor and heft himself to a
sitting position. “And?”

“He said somethin’ about needin’ to get
away for a while.”

“Shit.” Ryan planted his elbows on his
knees and dropped his head into his hands. “What’d you tell him?”

“I told him he needed to talk to you.”

Ryan lifted his head and met Z’s hardened
stare. “What’d he say to that?”

“Nothin’. Which was why I figured you’d
want to know.”

Ryan’s dick twitched behind the zipper of
his jeans, simply from looking at Z. It wasn’t a professional reaction by any
means, but one he couldn’t prevent no matter how much he wanted to. Considering
he didn’t want to…

Pushing to his feet, Ryan paced the living
room. “We’ve had our sights on Isaac the last couple of days.”

“I figured as much.”

Ryan’s eyebrow lifted, his curiosity
piqued.

“When an office full of gossiping biddies
suddenly has nothin’ to talk about, it looks suspicious. I might not be related
to Einstein, but I figured it out. Likely Isaac did, too.”

Damn it. And here they’d thought they had
the element of surprise on their side.

“So when are you gonna tell me what’s
goin’ on?” Z asked, his chocolate-brown eyes colliding with Ryan’s. Curiosity
mixed with what looked like interest pinned Ryan in place.

“Apparently now,” Ryan admitted, reaching
for the iPad on the table and then handing it to Z. On the screen was the
article he’d found last night. Offering Z a minute to get caught up, he asked, “You
want somethin’ to drink?”

“Water’s good,” Z said without bothering
to look up from the screen.

Ryan headed for the kitchen, both to get
the water and to put a little distance between him and Z while he attempted to
remind himself that lusting after Z wasn’t in anyone’s best interest. For all
intents and purposes, Ryan was Z’s boss. Ryan was next in line to take over
Sniper 1, and Z was an enforcer, one of their best, at that. He’d damn sure be
better off not getting too carried away with himself. Especially if he knew
what was best for all of them.

So why was it he couldn’t seem to bring
himself to care at the moment?

“That’s three!” Marissa exclaimed,
laughing as she glanced over at Trace. He was frowning as he stared down at the
screen of his iPad.

“How the hell do you know all this shit?”
Trace grumbled.

“Luck. I’ve been gettin’ easy questions.”

They’d spent the last couple of hours
sitting in the living room on opposite ends of the couch, their toes touching
while they played Trivia Crack. Other than the sound of her giggles and his
grumbles, it’d been a relatively quiet evening, one that Marissa had enjoyed
immensely.

It wasn’t that beating him at a trivia
game was what made her happy; simply spending time with him alone, doing normal,
everyday things did that. More importantly, the fact that Trace had seemed to
lighten up a little made her do the same.

Not once had they mentioned who was after
her, what they wanted from her, or any of the events of the past year. It was
the here and now, two lovers enjoying some quiet time together.

Marissa hadn’t had that in a really long
time and it was nice. Very nice.

“Another game?” Trace asked, his eyes
lifting to meet hers.

“Sure. Wanna put a wager on this one?”

A devilish smirk tilted the corners of
Trace’s succulent lips and Marissa’s mouth went dry.

“What’re you thinkin’, darlin’?”

“For every question you get wrong, you
lose a piece of clothing,” she said, proud that her anxiety wasn’t reflected in
her tone.

“Game on,” he answered, his eyes locking
with hers.

Marissa hit the button to start the game.
Worrying her lip, she read the first question and smiled when she got the
answer correct. The next question was a little more difficult, but again she
answered correctly. On the third spin, she landed on the crown and waited for
her big question, selecting sports as the category since that was her worst
subject. For her, the key was always getting those out of the way first.

“Crap,” she muttered when she got the
answer wrong.

When she lifted her gaze to meet Trace’s,
she found him grinning back at her.

“You lose an article of clothing,” he
informed her as he peered down at the screen.

Marissa sat up and pulled her T-shirt over
her head, keeping her eyes on him as she did. The way his eyebrows lifted made
her insides churn. Teach him to tease her. Now he would have to answer the
questions while she was sitting there without a shirt.

Propping her iPad against her thighs, she
watched him closely, enjoying the exaggerated expressions that fluttered over
his face as he read the questions, his fingers hitting the screen every so
often. She began to get worried after a good three minutes passed, but finally,
his gaze rose to meet hers.

“Your turn.”

Picking up her iPad, she hit the button to
bring the screen to life, noticing that he’d already gotten two crowns to her
zero. Crap.

But he still had to lose something.

Without a word, he leaned forward, reached
behind his neck, and pulled his T-shirt up and over his head in one decidedly
sexy move. Her eyes trailed over his pecs, then down his rock-hard abs,
watching as they flexed and shifted as he reclined once again.

Turning her attention to the game, Marissa
answered question after question, never getting lucky enough to get a crown
until her three questions were answered correctly, but she’d managed to get
three crowns completed before she missed another question.

His iPad dinged, signaling his turn, and
he smiled back at her.

“Your turn,” she muttered, then reached
behind her back, unhooking her bra with one quick flick of her wrist and then
removing it, leaving it on the couch behind her.

Trace’s eyes widened as he narrowed his
gaze on her chest. Her nipples instantly puckered, her body warmed by the heat
she saw reflected there.

But then he pretended not to care that she
was topless, turning his attention back to the screen and smiling as he did,
which only made her laugh.

Marissa watched him, tempted to cover
herself but somehow managing not to do so while she waited for him to lose his
turn. When his eyes lifted to meet hers once more, the smile that split his
face had her pussy clenching with need.

“I win,” he said roughly as he set his
iPad down on the coffee table and sat up, his hips turning, his feet touching
the floor.

“
What?
”
she questioned, glancing down at the screen to see that, yes, in fact, he had
won the game. She flicked her gaze back up to him, finding him crawling over
her. “You hustled me,” she accused, unable to keep from giggling.

“Considering these jeans are the only
thing I had left, I figured I had no choice.”

Marissa squealed when he gripped the
waistband of her leggings and abruptly pulled them—and her panties—down her
legs, leaving her entirely exposed to his wandering eyes.

Okay, so he wasn’t wasting time.

“So pretty,” he mumbled as he inched her
legs up, his shoulders sliding beneath her thighs as his face hovered
precariously above her most intimate place. “And now, I’m going to see how you
taste.”

Marissa didn’t get another word out before
his head dropped down, his lips grazing her mound, his fingers parting her
labia. Her throat was suddenly desert dry, her breaths labored as she watched
him.

She had to admit, it was rather hot to
watch him go down on her right there in the middle of his brightly lit living
room, but all thought ceased when his tongue slid through her folds, grazing
her clit.

Her eyes instantly closed, but that didn’t
last long.

“Keep your eyes open, Marissa,” he growled,
and her eyes immediately popped open, locking on his face. “I want you to watch
what I do to you.”

Nodding, Marissa swallowed hard, her eyes
glued to the spot between her spread thighs where his head dipped again.

Keeping her lids open wasn’t as easy as
she had hoped, not with pleasure spearing her when his tongue once again began
teasing her clit. Her hands fisted at her sides as she attempted not to reach
for him, not to pull him closer, to grind herself against his mouth. An
overload of sensation, a cataclysm of pure, unadulterated need coursed through
her, making her light-headed, desperate for release. When he added one finger,
thrusting it inside her, Marissa’s body seemed to separate from her mind,
taking over as she soared, perched unsteadily just outside of herself.

“It’s too much,” she moaned, trying to
take it all in, to separate the various sensations as everything morphed into
one single, mind-numbing euphoria filling her insides. “Oh, God, Trace.”

Unable to resist, she reached for his
head, clutching desperately as she held him to her, grinding against his mouth,
moaning as her release built, starting as a warmth between her thighs, then
traveling outward, tingling as it coursed through her, bringing her higher,
higher still.

“Trace!” Marissa screamed as her body
imploded, her climax tearing through her, ripping her to shreds and leaving her
sated yet still ravenous for this man.

It was then that she realized she truly
would never get enough of him.

□«»□«»□«»□

Watching Marissa come was a newfound
hobby, something Trace would never tire of. The way she embraced the sensation,
giving herself over to the pleasure… He wanted to make her come a million
different ways, cataloguing every response, every single reaction until he knew
her body better than she knew did.

While Marissa lay limp and replete on his
couch, so fucking beautiful sprawled out before him, he managed to get to his
feet. With ease, he lifted her into his arms, loving the way she wreathed his
neck, burying her face against his shoulder while he carried her into his
darkened bedroom.

Unlike the first time they’d made love in his
room, when he’d tied her to the bed and admired her exquisite body by the
golden glow of the lamp, Trace wasn’t interested in restraining her, pushing
her any further. No, tonight he was being selfish because he wanted to feel
her, to be buried to the hilt inside her while she clung to him. And the dark
would do because what he needed from her wouldn’t be received via sight, only
touch.

Lowering her gently onto the mattress, he
retrieved a condom from the nightstand and quickly sheathed himself before
joining her. Kneeing her thighs apart, he hovered over her, watching her as she
watched him.

He sensed that she wanted to tell him
something, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear what she had to say, so he
silenced her with his mouth, lowering his lips to hers, sliding his tongue
inside, and exploring her softly until she moaned.

Guiding his cock to the tight entrance to
her body, he rocked his hips forward, pushing the head of his cock inside. He
couldn’t stop there, the warmth enveloping him until breathing became
strenuous, his senses overwhelmed by her. He continued to push into her while
his mouth was fused to hers, her faint moans fueling him as he pressed deeper,
not stopping until he was lodged completely inside her warm, wet depths.

“Marissa.” He mouthed her name as he slid
his lips along her soft, smooth cheek, then closer to her ear. “You’re so
tight. You feel so good.”

Better than good, actually. Like…
Oh, God.
Like coming home.

“Trace.” The way she said his name as she
wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer, her legs embracing his hips,
was nearly his undoing. And when she used her ankles to force him even deeper
than he thought possible, Trace growled, the beast inside rising up with its
need to dominate her, to own her mind, body, and soul.

He began to rock his hips, impaling her
before easing back and sliding home again and again.

“That’s it, baby,” he urged, her inner
muscles tightening around his cock. “Take all of me, Marissa. All of me.”

And she did. As he continued to love her
in the darkened room, Marissa clung to him, their bodies melded together, as
much one as two people could possibly get, and Trace’s mind swirled with so
many thoughts, so many dreams of what the future would hold for them. He wanted
this every single day, every single night, to have Marissa safely ensconced in
his arms. He loved her, there was no denying that, but he was too selfish to
say the words. So he settled on showing her with his body.

Sliding one hand beneath her neck, the
other beneath her lower back, he held her to him, steadying himself on his
elbows while he drilled into her, the soft warmth of her body drawing them
closer and closer until he was lost in her. Her powdery scent infused him. The
steady thump of her heart was the only thing he heard aside from her sweet
moans.

“Marissa.” He didn’t have anything else to
say, just her name, but that seemed to be enough. She continued to hold him as
she rocked beneath him, meeting every thrust of his hips against hers. “You’re
so tight, so wet. I want to feel you come for me,” he whispered against her
ear. “Come on my cock, Marissa. Come for me so I can come inside you.”

Oh, fuck. Her muscles locked on him, her
fingernails scoring his back while her ankles dug into his ass as she trembled
beneath him.

“Trace. Oh, yes. Don’t stop,” she told him
softly. “Oh, God, yes. You feel so … good. So … right.”

Nipping the sensitive skin near her ear,
he urged her to come with words as he began to drive into her hard, slamming
his hips against her, burying his cock into her body while his balls drew up
tight, the urge for release consuming him. He was going to come, but he wanted
her to come with him.

“Marissa. Oh, fuck, baby. That’s it.
Squeeze my dick. Oh, God, yes,” he groaned against her ear before nipping her
again. “Fuck, yes. Come for me.”

And when she did, when her pussy clamped
onto his cock, milking him for all he was worth, Trace let himself go. But his
release wasn’t the only thing he gave her right there in the shadows of his
bedroom. No, right then and there, Trace gave Marissa what she’d had all along,
but he had refused to believe.

His heart.