Jude tipped his head back, mouth parting on a sharp breath, jerking his hips into Warren’s fist. And that sight, even half-glimpsed in the dark, gutted him. Pleasure coiled hot and tight at the base of his spine and his strokes on Jude grew erratic, tightening his fingers around him as slick heat spilled over his knuckles.
That was it. The trigger.
The pressure snapped, Warren’s body locking as he came hard, every pulse dragging another grunt from deep in his chest. He spilled between them, over Jude’s stomach, his hand still moving, milking the last of it while Jude’s release smeared warm over his fingers.
For a long moment, Warren breathed into Jude’s open mouth. Rough, uneven pulls of air in the dark. The sea outside was loud enough to thrum in his ribs as he pressed his forehead to Jude’s temple, their bodies tangled, sweat and release making skin cling to skin. Then he let go of Jude’s softening cock, caught his hand instead, laced their fingers, and slammed it into the upholstery behind Jude’s head.
He didn’t want to pull back. Didn’t want to think about the op, or what line he’d just bulldozed through. Nor how many violations he’d racked up in one night. All he wanted was the solid, living weight of Jude beneath him, his hand locked in his, and to hold on a little longer.
But inevitability broke them apart first. Jude’s voice, quiet but cutting through the dark. “How did you know where I was?”
Warren held his gaze, refusing to shift or let go. This was a crossroads, and whichever way he went, he was fucked. “I followed you.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew something was off.”
“And you’re some kind of vigilante hero of the night?”
“Something like that.”
Jude looked away, but he didn’t push him off. Maybe he was struggling for air under Warren’s weight, but he stayed put, as if the closeness and the pressure was the safest place he’d ever been.
And that… that did something to Warren. Hit a part of him that had nothing to do with the UC brief and everything to do with why he’d joined the job in the first place. To protect. To stop the bastards who thought they were untouchable. To put them away for good. The fact he’d probably tanked his best shot at doing exactly that barely even registered.
Eventually, he slid his hand free and shifted off him, crossing to the other side of the car. Jude sat up, dragging his trousers and underwear into place, then leaned against the opposite door, fishing in the footwell until he found his glasses. When he pushed them on, the first thing he did was stare straight at Warren.
Warren stared back as Jude zipped up and Warren tucked himself back into his shorts. It was part survival, part shock as to why Jude wasn’t saying anything. The less Jude said, the less Warren could dig. Or pry into why he was out here, even though Warren already knew more than he should. But it was still uncharacteristically overwhelming how Warren wanted Jude to reach for him. His superiors would scream “power imbalance” before they threw the book at him, but right now Warren didn’t feel powerful at all.
He felt helpless.
How the hell had this man managed to strip away every rule, every instinct, every safeguard Warren had built over years undercover and make himwantto break them?
What was one more?
“If you’ve got nowhere to go,” Warren said, “come back to mine.”
Jude looked away, catching his lower lip with his teeth.
“I get the view here’s decent,” Warren said, coaxing him back. “But I’ve got a bed and clean sheets. Sofa if you want it. Whatever you need. But I’m not leaving you out here.”
Jude hesitated, weighing him up. Then gave a small nod.
“Leave your car. Come in mine.”
Jude shook his head. “I need the car. For the morning.”
“I can drive you into work.”
“I need my car.”
“Alright.” Warren scrubbed a hand down his face. “You want to know you’ve got a way out. That you can reach the sea if you need to. I get it.”
Jude cocked his head as if realising what Warren had referred to. The prisoners in the keep. But Warren ran the logistics in his head, preoccupied with what had to happen next. Letting Jude follow in his own car left him open. Anyone tailing him could peel him off before they made it back. If Reid was on him, or one of Radley’s errand boys, they’d never get as far as the safe house. But Warren had already done the sweep. If Reid had eyes here tonight, Warren wouldn’t still be standing in the cold making offers. He’d have a blade in his ribs, maybe a boot to his head, the car already lifted.
And the fact he hadn’t thought about thatbeforeclimbing into Jude’s car and shoving his hand down Jude’s pants told him exactly how compromised he was.
“Fine,” Warren said at last. “You follow me. Keep your distance, but close enough I can see your lights.”
