Public Enemy, Undercover Lover Page 2

  He swallowed Andrew’s cock with a glad hum.

  Canting wantonly between his lips, Andrew grabbed the arm and back of the sofa to keep steady. He’d drank a good amount of wine in short order, but Isaac knew he was in control, however uninhibited. Isaac sucked and licked and let Andrew fuck his mouth, until he needed a break for air, digging tightly into Andrew’s thighs to express it.

  Andrew let up, flushed as he offered reprieve, but looking for one brief moment like reality was crashing down on him and he might scramble away.

  Isaac licked his head and sucked the tip back in to keep him where he was. “I deserve everything you want to do to me, but don’t I also deserve something for my troubles?” He licked again, and then bobbed forward, taking Andrew in deep.

  The hesitation faded from Andrew’s eyes, and he clutched the upholstery of the sofa with a faint sound of ripping. As soon as Isaac pulled off, Andrew shifted back in line with his body and wrenched Isaac’s pants down too, rekindling their grinding with a slick, hot slide of flesh.

  “Fuck…” Andrew panted.

  “You feel—”

  “Shut up.” He silenced Isaac with another kiss, returning his hand to Isaac’s throat and squeezing again as he dictated the meeting of their tongues and rhythm of their hips.

  Tilting his head back like before, Isaac sucked in air through his nose and bucked up harder. He otherwise laid lax, letting Andrew do whatever he wanted.

  Their rhythm increased to frantic, messy rutting and occasional wet kisses or harder and then lighter pressure on Isaac’s throat. The wine they’d drank kept them both hard far longer than Isaac thought he’d last, but he still finished first with a choked cry behind Andrew’s grip, letting Andrew thrust into the mess left behind until he was satisfied too.

  They panted loudly in the aftermath amidst the mostly forgotten music, sticky and sweaty, with Andrew’s arms quaking between them.

  Isaac patted the hand now loosely spread across his throat. “Be a good boy…and go find us something to clean up.”

  Andrew groaned, dragging his hands with him as he sat back. “You are a colossal dick.”

  “Yours isn’t bad either.”

  Swinging up off the sofa, Andrew groaned again, walking on unsteady feet, and then gave up and kicked his sweatpants away to head into the kitchen.

  He could have been a shit and not brought back any paper towels for Isaac, but he did.

  “Thanks.”

  “I can’t believe we just did that.”

  “I’d say it was my devilish charms but were there perhaps…extenuating circumstances?”

  Andrew didn’t say anything, but as he tossed the dirty towels into a nearby wastebasket filled with Christmas wrapping scraps and ribbon pieces, his scowl remained.

  “Let me guess,” Isaac said, as they both pulled on their sweatpants, Isaac staying on the sofa, while Andrew segregated himself to the armchair. “Miss Park doesn’t like it rough?”

  “That had nothing to do with it,” Andrew snarled. “I’ve never…done anything like that before.”

  “Aren’t I lucky then? You know, they say people who are habitually in charge like being submissive on occasion to give themselves a break. And those robbed of agency—such as a detective always answering to a higher power with expectations weighing on his shoulders—enjoy being dominant to feel a sense of control.

  “Now, that’s generalizing, but tell me, Andrew…did I hit the nail on the head?”

  “Fuck you,” Andrew snapped.

  “Fuck me yourself. The night’s still young.”

  Andrew lurched up out of the armchair. “Not for me. Don’t leave. You can sleep on the sofa. Extra blankets are in the chest by the fireplace. We’ll go to the station in the morning.” He circled behind the sofa to head upstairs.

  “No goodnight kiss?” Isaac called after him.

  Having reached the banister, Andrew curled his hand angrily around the post, his eyes flashing darkly in warning. “You know what makes you such a bad criminal?”

  Isaac glowered. He was an excellent criminal.

  “You don’t want to be the bad guy. You just want to have a good time. Anywhere you can get it.”

  Those parting words left a nasty taste in Isaac’s mouth, and he laid in the light of the Christmas tree long after all other lights had been turned off. He’d been a street kid, a lifelong thief and grifter, with no family, few friends, and fewer prospects outside his next heist, but Andrew had no idea how wrong he was about ‘Anywhere you can get it’.

  He was picky to a fault, and maybe that’s what tonight had been.

  If Isaac didn’t go to the station tomorrow, he’d have to leave town, maybe for good, but he couldn’t sleep here. There was a safe house he could go to. He’d chosen Andrew instead for the chance at freedom. Now, he wasn’t as sure.

  Making up his mind, he left a note, taking his shoes and jacket but abandoning the jumpsuit.

  Check with your brother. If I decide to make good on our promise, he’ll know.

  * * * *

  Andrew’s words still echoed in Isaac’s mind as he entered the safe house through a side door. Maybe that was what caused him to be less vigilant, because it took him a moment to realize he wasn’t alone.

  There was a light on. No ambush then, if the person was announcing their presence, but it couldn’t be any of his usual partners in crime—they would have met him at the door—which meant someone was poking around where they didn’t belong, and Isaac was not in a mood to play nice.

  “I’m unarmed!” Hands shot for the ceiling when Isaac burst around the corner, which was good, because Isaac wasn’t armed either.

  “Who are you?” he demanded, searching the young and unfamiliar face.

  Except the eyes. Isaac knew those eyes…

  “I just—”

  “How’d you get in here?”

  “Luke! From the bar down the street! I saw the prison break on the news. He said you sometimes come here, had a key—”

  “Luke isn’t a rat, so if you’ve done something to him—”

  “No!” He looked like a teenager, maybe early twenties, and was dressed like some prep school kid, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous.

  Good looking, black coils of hair, dark skin.

  But blue eyes, strikingly blue.

  “Luke was kind of scary actually, but when I explained who I was, once I proved it, he told me this address and said I could figure out the rest for myself.”

  “And who are you that he’d be so accommodating?” Isaac held his ground, but the young man relaxed, dropped his hands, and shrugged.

  “Your son.”

  Chapter 1

  Lick my balls, Ford.

  Andrew shoved his phone away after reading the text message about his recent bid for a security job having once again gone to Ford Security instead—the third time that month! One would think people would prefer a former detective over a former thief.

  He still couldn’t believe Ford had chosen security after his release from prison. He knew he should be relieved that Ford had turned himself in as planned, but the way everything else had gone down felt…personal.

  Even if he couldn’t blame Ford for using him, since he’d used Ford too.

  To forget—all the other ways he’d been used leading up to that night.

  Andrew fingered the Bluetooth tracker in his pocket, one of the tiny little squares for laptop bags and suitcases. After the briefing, he’d planned to pitch it to Larson Manufacturing, the business he’d just lost, as an option for tracking sensitive equipment over more expensive GPS options.

  It’s not a waste! Candace had texted him—his business manager and college best friend, Candace Stone. We’ll use it on a future job. Things will pick up. I’m sure of it.

  Settling into his seat in the back row of the long, narrow briefing room, Andrew slumped, wishing the meeting would start so he could focus on something else. His brother had called him to the police station ab
out a new thief who’d already broken into several businesses without tripping alarms. Security was Andrew’s specialty, though he could probably thank familial nepotism more than years as a detective for the special treatment today.

  The other officers certainly saw it that way, barely offering him more than a passing nod if they even made eye contact, not a one of them taking the seat beside him. Andrew hadn’t been popular before he left, not like Steven, who everyone adored. Andrew was just Steven’s kid brother, who’d obviously only made detective so young because his father and brother were detectives first.

  The lights in the room started to dim, jolting Andrew out of his brooding. Steven would say he only had himself to blame for losing business if he really was trying his hardest—and if he was sure that trading in the family business for the private sector was the right choice.

  Even now, watching Steven take the podium, Andrew felt the weight of his brother’s eyes judging him for only being there as a spectator. It was never favoritism with him.

  Only pity.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Steven began the briefing.

  They looked like brothers, Steven’s hair about the same length as Andrew’s, though somehow always more perfectly coifed, but Steven sported an even coating of scruff, whereas Andrew had never been able to grow more than peach fuzz.

  A latecomer slid into the seat beside Andrew, boxing him against the wall. There were only two seats per table, and there were other empty seats, even a whole empty table to their right. He glanced aside to see who it was but only caught the hint of a strong jawline with the way the officer had his hat tipped low. It was rare for any of them to wear their hats inside.

  Ignoring the officer, Andrew tried to focus on his brother.

  “The five reported break-ins so far have identical MOs. Same timeframe, late at night, different security technology for the buildings, but same result. The security systems either shut off, completely localized, or picked up nothing, with no alerts sent to authorities.”

  “Inside job?” someone questioned.

  “That was our first thought when it was only one company’s problem, but like I said, each system affected were from different manufacturers, had different people install them, and the companies themselves and items stolen have nothing in common. We’re still investigating if anyone related to the businesses might have ties to each other, but for now, whoever this is, they aren’t leaving any evidence.”

  Andrew knew this was serious. If someone was out there disabling and bypassing security without leaving a trace or setting off any alarms, that could pose a problem for the whole city—and for Andrew’s business. It could also be a huge win if he figured out how to protect against it first, but so far, Steven wasn’t saying anything he didn’t already know.

  “Nothing to pique your interest?” the officer beside him whispered.

  That voice was familiar, but when Andrew looked, the officer still had his hat tipped too low to recognize him. “I’ve just been over all this already. I’m Andrew Wen, Detective Wen’s brother.” He extended his hand. “Unless we’ve met before?”

  “Oh,” the man grasped Andrew’s hand firmly and tilted his head up just enough to reveal Isaac Ford’s smirking face, “I think we’re well acquainted.”

  “Ford?!” Andrew hissed, trying to tug his hand away, but Ford released him slowly, dragging his fingers across Andrew’s palm. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Even with the hat on, the memories of Ford’s prim white-blond hair made Andrew self-consciously run a hand back through his. He wished he could just be annoyed with Ford instead of finding him so attractive. He was tall, thin but well-muscled, with intense blue eyes, and a flawless face, ageless and beautiful like some ethereal elf.

  An elf who’d had Andrew’s cock in his mouth…

  “Shh.” Ford brought a finger to his lips. “Wouldn’t want to draw any attention.”

  They hadn’t seen each other since Christmas, but Andrew had certainly felt Ford’s presence after he turned his freedom into starting a profession copying exactly what Andrew was trying to do! “Give me one good reason not to out you for impersonating an officer.”

  “Oh, Andrew, I’ve been out for ages.” Ford grinned.

  “What do you want?”

  “Same thing you do—to catch our wayward thief so this doesn’t get out of hand and put either of us out of business.”

  “How did you even hear about this? They’ve been keeping it out of the press.”

  “How did you find out?” Ford turned back to the presentation. “Oh, right. Brother dearest.”

  Catching Steven shooting him a glare, Andrew dropped his voice lower. “I’m sure my brother will be interested to know Artifice stopped by.”

  “No need for threats. We’re on the same side, and the police are stumped. Five businesses have been hit in the past month, and unless something gives, it’s only going to get worse.”

  “For all I know, you’re the thief again, and you just want their list of suspects.”

  “Please, that would hardly be fun anymore without you on the force.”

  Andrew flushed. He hated how easily Ford did that to him. “Aren’t you busy with the last job you poached from me?”

  “The benefits of having more than one field agent means I can take on multiple cases.”

  Andrew didn’t want another field agent. He just wanted to do something for himself. He almost hadn’t hired the two people who did work for him, Candace and his friend and tech guru, Kevin Lopez.

  “Why did you have to choose security?” he lamented.

  “What else would I be good at?”

  Turning his head, Andrew thought Ford’s expression seemed oddly serious. “I should cry wolf…”

  “No professional courtesy?”

  “Fuck you.”

  Ford slid his eyes over Andrew slyly. “Again? Would that seal your lips?”

  Andrew felt his cheeks darken further. He hadn’t wanted to give in that night at Christmas. He’d never taken Ford’s advances seriously before, but when presented with the option on one of his worst nights in recent memory, and with just the right amount of wine to tip his judgment, he’d taken his anger out on a willing participant—and loved it.

  He hated how much he’d loved it.

  “You seem tense,” Ford said.

  “Can’t imagine why.”

  “We’re in the back, Andrew. Alone. In the dark. At a table that can easily conceal any dirty deeds we do. Think anyone would notice if I slipped my hand down your pants?”

  Andrew honestly didn’t know how he kept from yelping as Ford’s palm slid across his knee. “Tell me you’re joking.”

  “Do you want me to be joking?”

  “I…” Andrew’s brain took a moment to reboot. “Wait.” He clamped his hand down on Ford’s, already halfway between his thighs in the time he’d taken to respond. “You’re serious?”

  Ford licked his lips. “I hadn’t planned a revisit to our Christmas cheer, but this is a rife opportunity. How much longer will your brother be?”

  “F-fifteen minutes?”

  “Think you’ll last that long?”

  Doubtful. Andrew could already feel himself hardening at the thought of what Ford was offering, from the way he looked at him, the low husk of his voice, his fingers digging into Andrew’s thigh, and then sliding further between his legs.

  From the memories of rutting on that sofa and wrapping his hand around Ford’s throat.

  “Let’s see how long you do last,” Ford purred and reached both hands over to undo Andrew’s pants, letting one slide in to grip him through his boxers. “Seems you’re plenty warmed up.”

  “Oh God…” Andrew whimpered, biting his lip to keep from moaning.

  “Want me to stop?”

  Andrew shook his head, turning to look forward again and pretend he was paying attention. Ford did the same, while that hand beneath the table, down Andrew’s pants, kept moving.

>   Soon, it snuck up to the elastic of his underwear and slid deftly beneath. Ford was full-on giving him a hand job in the precinct, but the chance of being caught was worth it. Andrew hadn’t felt another’s touch since…

  Since Ford the last time.

  Biting back his moans was getting harder, the hitch to his breath impossible to hide. He felt fire in his cheeks, burning with embarrassment and desire, but nothing compared to the heat in his belly. Ford knew just how to stroke him, the right pressure, an occasional twirl of his thumb through the precum forming at his tip, making Andrew slick and wet in his palm.

  Sly smile in place, Ford stared ahead, while his hand moved, and Andrew gasped, breathing harsher and shallower until he could feel himself getting close. He had no idea anything Steven had said for the past several minutes, gripping the sides of his chair for an anchor.

  “What if I snuck away quietly right now and left you like this, hard and weeping?” Ford whispered, slowing his strokes.

  “Don’t you dare!” Andrew snarled.

  A dark chuckle responded, but Ford’s hand picked up the pace, tight, pumping harder, faster. “Does that mean you’ll keep my secret?”

  Andrew nodded frantically. He didn’t care. He just wanted to come.

  But he also knew Ford was using him again. His hand focused on Andrew, but he was listening intently to every bit of intel Steven was revealing. Andrew couldn’t afford to lose any more clients. He needed to outdo Ford, but the only thing he could think of right then, given that he was currently in the palm of his enemy’s hand, was to get intel on Ford in return.

  And he had a tracker in his pocket.

  Ford sped up faster—faster. Andrew was close, and he used that to his advantage, starting by clutching the side of his pant leg, and then moving up to his pocket. The act was mostly hidden by Ford’s arm stretched across his lap, and Ford’s eyes remained forward.

  Andrew removed the tracker and reached for Ford’s pocket instead. He clutched there too, making it seem like he was warning Ford of his impending release, and then—

  He came with an all-over shudder.

  No one had even turned to look at them, and as Andrew let his hand drop between them, he didn’t get any impression that Ford knew what he’d done. Ford might ditch the hat and jacket, but he wouldn’t ditch his pants, not until he was somewhere safe.