His mouth went to my neck and he kept talking.

“Problem is, Marcus doesn’t do somethin’ for nothin’.” His teeth gently nipped my earlobe and I shivered.

He went on whispering in my ear, “So, in order for him to give me these guys, and there’s a good chance he’l find

‘em before I do, I gotta do something for him in return.” He paused to run his tongue down my jaw and, I couldn’t help it, I wanted to be angry or outraged, but I was turned on. I didn’t know what that said about me but I didn’t care.

His lips went from my jaw to my cheek and then he said against my mouth, “I don’t like owing Marcus.” I held my breath, opened my eyes and looked into his.

They were glittery and liquid. Another new look.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He let go of my bottom but I held on tight.

His hand went between us and worked at his jeans.

“Sorry about me owin’ Marcus or comin’ home to you with your head in Hank’s lap?”

I should have said, “Both.”

Instead, I said, “Marcus. I didn’t start out in Hank’s lap, it just happened.”

His fingers went from his jeans to me and, without warning, one slid inside.

“Ohmigod,” I whispered. I couldn’t help it, it felt so good, it deserved an “ohmigod”.

“A lot of shit just happens when you’re with other guys,” Eddie said low, his mouth stil against mine, then his fingers moved, his thumb got involved, my bones dissolved, I closed my eyes and pressed my h*ps against him.

“It’s nothing,” I breathed.

“Jet, open your f**kin’ eyes and look at me.” I did.

His eyes were burning into me. I realized in the middle of a turned-on daze that something was happening and it had a lot to do with Eddie being hot-blooded, me being his w-word and Eddie not liking coming home after a shitty task he did for me to find me with my head in some other man’s lap.

I couldn’t say I blamed him.

His fingers kept up their torture as he spoke.

“You’re gonna have to wake up to the shit happenin’

around you. You think Hank doesn’t want this…” His finger went out and then back in and I was pretty sure it was joined with another one, “you’re wrong.”

I was finding it difficult to keep my concentration on our conversation but felt it was important I do so.

I tried to explain.

“Hank’s your friend, he sees in black and white, he plays by the good guy’s rules. He told me so. He wouldn’t try anything with me.”

Eddie wasn’t convinced.

“I think I’ve been pretty f**kin’ tolerant of your shit until now, but I’m warnin’ you, tonight it ends. Do you understand?”

I nodded, though I didn’t real y understand, I was beginning to.

His fingers went away but then he fil ed me and immediately started moving.

immediately started moving.

“You don’t understand. You don’t have a f**kin’ clue,” he said against my neck.

I’d never had sex against a wal , or anywhere other than a bed, except, of course, the stuff Eddie and I did in the shower. The shower stuff wasn’t sex as such, as it didn’t involve penetration and acrobatics, just fingers, mouths and eventual orgasms. Mostly, my orgasms.

Okay, all my orgasms.

This was al new to me.

New and yum.

I chanced moving my arm from hanging on for dear life around his shoulders and slid my fingers into his hair.

“Eddie,” I whispered.

His head came up. “What?” he asked, stil moving.

“Are you done talking?”

He ground his h*ps into me and I bit my lip.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Then, would you please kiss me?”

The glitter went out of his eyes, leaving only the liquid. I felt a deep relief in my bel y, then a deep thrust somewhere else and then he obliged.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Bloody T-shirts and Biohazard Bags

The alarm went off, Eddie touched a button and rol ed out of bed.

I tensed, waiting for him to yank me out with him, but he didn’t.

I heard him moving around the room and I opened my eyes, noticing it was dark, way early and I sincerely hoped he was only getting up either to use the bathroom or program the coffee maker for later.

I fel back to sleep.

Then I heard beeping buttons like someone pressing them and I opened my eyes.

I was on Eddie’s side of the bed, hugging Eddie’s pil ow and smel ing Eddie, probably both on his pil ow and on him.

He was crouched by the bed, ful y clothed and fiddling with the alarm.

“Eddie?” I muttered.

His head turned toward me, “Shh, Cariña, go back to sleep.”

I noticed the clock, it was stil way early.

I got up on my elbow.

“Whas goin’ on?” I mumbled. It was so early I couldn’t ful y form words.

He came out of the crouch but sat on the side of the bed.

“I’m goin’ to work,” he said.

I blinked, coming quickly awake. “What about our shower?”

“Maybe we’l shower later.”

Something was wrong. Eddie liked our showers, a lot (or, as far as I could tel he did).

I sat up feeling strange and, maybe, a little scared. “Are you mad at me?” I whispered.

His hand came out and tucked hair behind my ear. “Why would you think that?”

I felt something lodge in my throat.

I knew what it was.

It was fear.

Okay, so maybe I was a lot scared.

“Last night… Hank,” I answered.

For a second he didn’t move, then he put his hands at my waist and pul ed me around so I was sitting on his lap.

Then his lips touched my neck and he said, “I wasn’t mad at you last night.”

“You sure seemed mad.”

“That wasn’t mad, that was frustrated.”

Dear Lord, if that wasn’t mad, I wasn’t sure I wanted to see mad.

His head came up and he looked at me in the dark.

“I don’t like Marcus,” he said.

“I think I got that.”

I could swear, even in the dark, I could see him smile.

“I also don’t like seein’ you with other guys.”

“I haven’t been with other guys.”

“Vance?”

Hmm.

“Mace?”

Wel , what could I say? That was a life or death situation.

“Hank?”

I didn’t real y have an excuse for that one.