“You acquired the information we were looking for,” Thane said, though there was little approval in his voice. “That’s a start. We need more information. We need to know where it’s coming from and what they have planned for it.”
Riven turned down the alley where he knew Thane would be waiting with the bike. His heart was still thundering, half from the brush with danger and half from the damn voice in his ear. “Good thing I make great first impressions.”
Chapter 8
The ride back was silent, but not calm. It vibrated with tension—taut and aching, buzzing in Riven’s teeth and curling low in his belly. Thane didn’t speak over comms, didn’t need to. Riven felt everything in the space between them: the raw heat of the engine, the rhythmic thrum beneath him, and Thane’s body so close it was almost unbearable.
He sat behind Thane, arms wrapped around his waist, fingers pressed into the hard lines of muscle beneath his jacket. Every time they leaned into a turn, Riven was forced tighter against him—his thighs gripping the bike, his chest flush to Thane’s back, breath catching each time the movement dragged his face closer to the nape of Thane’s neck.
The wind screamed past, but all Riven could feel was heat. The pulse of it between his legs, the maddening awareness of the man he was wrapped around, and the fact that Thane hadn’t said a damn word—just rode like the road would burn behind them if he slowed down.
He was hard the entire ride. Half from adrenaline, half from the impossible heat of Thane’s body against his own, heavy and possessive. His cock strained inside his pants, trapped and twitching with every jolt of the road. He couldn’t stop himself subtly shifting for friction, grinding down against the bike seat like a fucking teenager.
By the time they rolled into the private underground garage of the Virellien compound, Riven’s pulse was a hammer in his throat. The tires hissed to a stop against smooth stone. Riven swung off the bike, fists clenched, trying to shake the restless heat out of his limbs. It didn’t help.
Behind him, Thane dismounted like a fucking god, all controlled power. He peeled off his helmet, raking a hand through sweat-damp hair, and when those strands clung to his forehead, Riven’s cock throbbed.
“You overstepped,” Thane said, voice low and flat, but simmering with restrained fury.
Riven turned on him sharply. “I didn’t give them anything they didn’t already suspect.”
Thane took a step forward, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world to decide whether to tear him apart. “You told them about the fence. About how you got it. You think that was subtle?”
Riven’s jaw clenched. “It got me in the room, didn’t it?”
“This isn’t a game.” Thane’s gaze dragged down his body like a physical touch, lingering and furious. “You think flirting with exposure is clever? They could trace that back to the House.”
“You weren’t there,” Riven snapped. “I had to give them something.”
Thane stepped in close, his presence overwhelming, voice dropping low and vicious. “You gave them a breadcrumb trail straight to our door. If Lareth decides to follow it, I’ll make sure the first thing he finds is your corpse.”
Riven’s breath hitched, but he didn’t back down. “It worked.”
“Barely.” Thane’s tone was scathing, even as his breath brushed hot against Riven’s cheek. “You think you’re sharp, but you’re reckless. You trade secrets like you’re bartering in a street stall. What else would you have offered if they’d asked?”
Riven’s pulse stuttered. He could feel the heat rolling off Thane, could feel the thread between fury and something rougher, hungrier.
“And what if I had?” he asked, too quiet, too daring.
Thane’s mouth twitched—not a smile. “Then I’d call that kind of risk a liability. One I’d have to keep a very close eye on.”
Riven swallowed hard. The warning was clear. So was the interest.
Riven could feel it in the air, thick as smoke. Every nerve ending was lit up, alive. His cock ached, so hard it hurt, throbbing behind his zipper.
“You keep talking about danger like you’re not the biggest threat in the room,” Riven said, rough and ragged.
“I am the biggest threat in the room.”
And gods help him, Riven believed it. That deep, dry voice made his spine shiver. Made his cock twitch again, leaking into his briefs. It wasn’t fair. Thane hadn’t even touched him.
Riven held his ground as Thane stepped even closer, forcing him to tilt his head to meet his eyes. Their bodies brushed—barely—but the friction of it sent heat spiking through him.
“You did well,” Thane said. “You didn’t flinch. You played your role.”
Riven didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Not with Thane’s breath brushing his lips, not with his own cock straining so hard it throbbed in time with his pulse.
“But don’t mistake praise for trust,” Thane murmured. “You’re still a weapon. One I haven’t decided to sheath.”
