Slow Burn (MM) (15 page)

“Oh…my
God
.” Zack dropped his hand to Brody’s chest and clung on, his hips moving faster. “Yeah,” he said, voice shaking. “Just…yeah. Right there.”

Brody’s balls tightened, thighs quivered. He knew he wasn’t far off, but there was no way in hell he was coming before Zack did. He lifted his hips, thrusting up with each movement.

He watched as Zack lost the plot. Spouting off expletives and nonsense. “Oh, Brody. I’m gonna come. I’m gonna—” Zack bucked, his body shoving forward once more, bent over Brody’s chest as he pumped hotly into Brody’s hand and over his stomach. The headboard groaned where Zack almost pulled the damn thing down on top of them. Brody’s chest ached from where Zack’s fingers dug into the muscle. But he didn’t fucking care.

Zack looked so thoroughly spent, totally debauched. Brody could finally let go.

He drove into the heat, erratic and quick, no rhythm other than the desperate climb toward completion. With Zack talking to him from above, panting his encouragements, his forehead resting on his and hands reaching down to grab at Brody’s hips, to bring him closer, deeper, Brody groaned as he came. Hard, his whole body tightening the last few strokes, clinging to Zack before collapsing back onto the pillow.

Zack let his head fall to Brody’s neck, breath hot on his skin. There were a few beats of quiet before a tired chuckle tickled his neck.

“Damn, Detective. Now I really won’t be able to move tomorrow.”

Chapter Twelve

Zack only woke up because his feet were inexplicably cold, and he couldn’t seem to fix the situation. He fought with the sheets and blanket in a state of semiconsciousness but still didn’t manage to cover more than just his shins.

“Just screw you, then,” he mumbled at his bedding.

Wasn’t all the bedding’s fault. It had gotten pretty knotted and tumbled with the nocturnal activities from the evening before.

He rolled over onto his back with a big grin.
Delicious
nocturnal activities that made his body ache in that perfect way that no workout ever could. Memories of Brody, how he moved, the tightly held control, the potential—it made him want more. All in good time. Getting Brody to finally let go and give in to what he obviously wanted would be like releasing a bull and hoping to keep up, never mind stay on.

Speaking of the hot hard-ass…

Zack eased up to his elbows and did a sweep of his room. Problem number one, the sheet and comforter were on the damn floor, and all he had was a blanket. No wonder his feet were cold. Problem number two, where the hell was Brody?

He got up and slipped on a pair of basketball shorts and his ugly yet comfy slippers before hunting down the detective at large. His legs were stiff, more from the running, less from the fucking, and he stretched in long strides as he went down the hall.

“Hey!” he called out as he neared the kitchen. He smelled coffee. That was promising. “Coffee goooooood,” he said to himself. “Brody!”

No answer. The kitchen was empty, but the little green light shone from the coffeepot, calling to Zack like a siren of caffeine. He poured a big cup, added his favorite vanilla creamer until it looked like a latte, and took his search outside. Surely Brody hadn’t left without saying good-bye. Not after last night. Not after yesterday.

That was…to be honest, it’d all been kinds of a huge moment. Not just the next step in sex, but what they’d talked about, what they’d shared. Brody had spent the friggin’ night. It was bad form to sneak out.

Plus his suit jacket and shirt were still in the living room.

“Yo!” Zack called out the front door. “Brody?”

“What the hell are you yelling about?” Brody said from out of nowhere, making him jump. He came around the side of the house, wearing his pants and undershirt from yesterday. “You’re disturbing the peace. I could hear you yelling all the way outside.”

“Then answer, and I can quit. I was concerned about your well-being.”

Brody cocked an eyebrow and made a show of looking around Zack’s front yard. Two big oaks with low-hanging branches were weighted down by Spanish moss blowing gently in the summer beach breeze, the distant sound of morning beachcombers enjoying the day. Palmetto trees dotted the neighbor’s yard; huge clusters of humidity-loving plants and flowers colored the yard, and their car was left with windows down overnight, bikes sitting out in the yard because no one would bother any of it. “Because this is such a rough neighborhood? Threats ’round every corner?”

“I was thinking more about up here.” Zack tapped his head. He wasn’t an idiot, and he wasn’t going to dance around the subject of Brody’s issues about who he really was. Why? Because he’d learned the hard way that avoiding a topic only fed it until it grew into a huge, gluttonous beast.

“I’m all good up there. Don’t worry, I’m not freaking out.” Brody nodded, the slightest color painting his skin. “Last night was…” He took a deep breath.

“Yeah. My thoughts exactly. Just checking, though.”

“I see you found the coffee.” Brody held out his cup, now empty.

Zack took a sip, his gaze on Brody over the edge of his mug. “It was too tempting to pass up.”

Brody shook his head and approached the door. Zack stuck his left arm straight out and against the door frame, blocking Brody’s path. “There’s a fee for refills.”

“I can only imagine.” Brody’s normally stormy eyes warmed at what he must be imagining.

“A kiss will do for now.” Zack leaned forward and pressed his lips to Brody’s.

Brody’s kiss was hesitant, and he took a quick look around as soon as Zack leaned back.

“Seriously?” Zack looked around as well. He was absolutely going to give him shit about worrying
that
much. He stepped back and set his coffee on the little tiki table by the door.

Brody’s face was once again carved with seriousness and doubt.

“Allow me to point out a few things, just in case you missed it,” Zack began. “Point one: you’re a big-ass guy. Scarier than ninety-nine percent of the people on this island. No one is going to say shit to you if anyone happens to see you kiss a guy. They likely wouldn’t say shit if you made out with me at the end of the pier. Which, now that I mention it, sounds like a swell idea. Point two: no one here cares anyway! Have you looked around? I live on what is possibly
the
most laid-back place on the planet. I saw a dude cutting his grass by steering his lawn mower from the side of his golf cart, okay? And no one else looked twice. So if we’re at my place and I want to kiss you, dammit, I’m kissing you. And you better not ever shy away from me. We got it?”

Brody blinked at him, coffee cup in front of him. He worked his jaw, then finally: “Fine. I get what you’re saying, I do. You live at a very chill beach and can do whatever you want, and believe me, I’m envious. But this is a big fucking deal for me, so don’t be an asshole about it. Okay?”

“Okay. Fair enough. But don’t be all closeted and self-conscious when we’re right here in the cone of safety of my house. You weren’t last night, inside or outside. Just don’t…do that. It’s guaranteed to wig me out. Cool?”

“Cool.”

“Good.” Zack grabbed Brody by his free arm and hauled him forward as he stepped out. Their mouths crashed together when they met in the middle. He slid his fingers into Brody’s thick, short hair and tilted his head so he could properly debauch the man the way he ought to be debauched every morning. This time, Brody didn’t fight him.

Zack pushed his tongue inside, the kiss warm, tasting of vanilla and dark roast coffee. He could wake up like this on any given day and be just fine. Brody found his waist with his free hand and ran his fingers over the skin, pulling him closer until he reached the dip of Zack’s spine. Gooseflesh spread over him, even on the balmy summer morning.

“Better?” Brody asked, his lips a well-kissed pink within the stubble darkening his jaw.

“
So
much better.”

“Good. Now move so I can get more coffee; I’ve got to ask you something.”

He stepped aside and let Brody pour another cup. “Uh-oh. This sounds ominous.”

“No, I just want to show you something.”

He followed Brody around the side of the house to the open backyard that butted up against a neighbor’s wooden fence. “Is this really us just slipping around back so we can have sex outside? Because if so, count me in.”

“You have no shame. You know, I’ve arrested people for exactly that.”

Zack laughed at the deadpan sincerity in Brody’s voice, and some coffee went up his nose. The man wasn’t kidding, but it was freaking hilarious. He glanced over at Brody, who was grinning slightly.

“Are you kidding or not? I can’t always tell. You’re like a flat line on what you give off sometimes.”

“No, I’m not kidding, but it is funny. I’ve probably caught…” Brody stopped walking and looked up at the tree branches, evidently doing math in his head. “Damn, at least ten couples in the act. Calls on strange cars, and we’d show up to find a couple, sometimes married, just having a little quality time in the sedan. Parked at the end of some street, in the empty parking lot of a business, construction site, their own backyard, you name it. People especially like to get freaky in cars.”

Zack laughed again. “It is good times.”

Brody just shook his head. “Anyway, this.” He pointed to a tarp hanging five feet off the ground. “This is what I wanted to show you.”

“It’s a tarp,” he said.

“I know it’s a fucking tarp, I mean what’s underneath it.”

“Oh, my boat?”

“‘Oh, my boat,’ he says, like everyone has a sailboat in their backyard. Yeah, your boat. I peeked. I didn’t know you sailed.”

“Well, I don’t.” Because who the hell was he going to sail with? He wasn’t about to sail alone. “Not right now. She’s just my never-ending pet project. Why? Don’t tell me you sail.” He tried to keep the hope from his voice. It was one thing to have Brody in his bed. What he wanted, no matter how unlikely, was Brody in his life.

“I might.”

“Detective Brody.” Zack put his hand on his heart with dramatic flair, hoping it covered for the fact it’d just lurched with possibility. “I just knew you were a seaman.”

“Do you ever stop?” Brody shook his head, the slightest pink to his cheeks.

There was no way he’d stop any time soon if it meant extra time with Brody and making him blush even a little. He might pause it temporarily, but he couldn’t stop flirting with the man now that he’d started. Like…ever.

“No, I’m not a seaman. I don’t know how to do any of that shit, but I do like being out on the water. Lakes, rivers, oceans, whatever. It’s relaxing, and there’s no one in my immediate vicinity committing crimes.”

“Oh. That makes sense. Allow me to introduce you, then. Here.” He handed Brody his coffee cup and grabbed the tarp, folding it back neatly to reveal a small white sailboat. “This is my sloop,
Mystic Mary. Mary
, this is Brody. Brody,
Mary
.”

Brody stuck the coffee mug back in his hand. “You’re not far from being finished.”

“Nope. I was going to work on her today and tomorrow, since I’m off. Probably finish her up soon.”

“Get her in the water?”

“Only if you’ll go with me.”

Brody’s gaze shot to his as he went perfectly still.

“You said you liked being out on the water, and I don’t like being out there alone. Seems like a simple solution.” And hopefully it didn’t sound desperate.

“I thought you boat people liked being all alone and at one with the sea?”

“First of all, I am not
you
boat people. I am you beach people. We be a social people. Second, what if I get swept out to sea? Third, what if I capsize? Or a pop-up storm hits me and I’m out there all alone? Or a great white shark sweeps in. No thanks.” He shook his head. “I believe in the buddy system.”

Brody just looked at him, biting back a smile. “You seriously worry about all that? None of that is going to happen.”

“Says he who won’t even kiss me in my front yard? Your arm get sore from throwing stones?”

“Screw you.”

“Okay. But friends don’t let friends sail alone. I’ll take her in the water, but only if you’ll go with.”

“Is that what we are, then? Friends?”

Zack studied the man across from him over the top of the boat. Brody had propped his thick forearms on the side, and Zack could see the ropelike veins standing out against hard muscle, making him want to lick and nibble his way up Brody’s arms and then, oh say, pin those arms over his head and have his way with him.

“No.” Zack laughed. “I’m not sure what I’d call it yet, but my thoughts on you are way too pervy to be friendship.”

Brody cracked up. “Well, hell. At least you’re honest about it. Come on, then.” He started pulling the tarp the rest of the way off
Mary.

Zack lurched closer to him. “Uhm…whatcha doin’?”

“I’m going to help you finish. With both of us working, we could finish today, be in the water by next weekend, right?”

“Uh, yeah. You do know it’s going to be, like, ninety million degrees today, right?”

He got the eyebrow again. “Ninety million?”

“In the shade.” He nodded.

“Then we better get going and be done by the afternoon.”

Zack scrunched his face, watching Brody check out the tins of sealant and paint. The man was dead serious. He was going to help Zack finish his boat. Who did that? It was dirty, nasty, thankless work. “You don’t have to do all this to get me in bed again,” Zack told him. “I’d go willingly if you so much as wiggle your ass. I mean, I’m pretty much a sure thing at this point unless you really piss me off or kick me to the curb, so manual labor isn’t required. Just saying.”

Brody straightened and stepped closer to him. He grabbed Zack’s forearm with one hand and dragged him over to the wooden table. “Quit talking bullshit and tell me what goes on next. I’ve got time off too, nowhere else to be, and I don’t feel like hanging out alone all day with my mind. If you feel me.”

“Ahhhh.” He stared at Brody a second longer. His dark hair shining in the dappled sunlight, his face pure serious as he studied a menagerie of brushes. “I know exactly what you mean,” Zack finally said. “Let me get you something to wear, though, because you’ll ruin those clothes.”