Chapter Thirty-Two
Baxter
We dozed together until I remembered that it was getting late again, and the city was counting on us, even if it didn’t know it. If we didn’t do it tonight, got something solid on Captain Matthew Walsh, more people might die.
I gave Angelo one last kiss and rolled off the bed.
He pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the bed immediately, alert and wary. “Where are you going?”
“Shower.”
“Oh.” He looked like he wanted to say more, so I waited. “Can’t we...” He gestured at the bed. “Lie here awhile longer?”
“There’s literally nothing I’d rather do,” I said, coming closer to him, pushing my way between his knees where he sat on the edge of the bed. I cupped his face and grinned down at him. “You fucked me so good, you know that?” He grabbed my ass and pulled me close. “But we have work to do. Walsh,” I added, as he looked puzzled.
“Ah. Yes. Walsh.”
“I won’t be long.” But he wouldn’t let me go, cradling me close to him and pressing his face into my solar plexus. “I really do need a shower,” I said gently. “My butthole’s sticky.”
My sticky butthole seemed to win Angelo’s concession for the moment and he let me go, but not long after I started my shower he came into the bathroom.
“Are you okay?” I asked loudly over the thundering water. There was no reply, so I stuck my head out of the shower stall. He stared mutely at me. The shower was tiny, but that was okay. “Get in here.”
He didn’t even hesitate, just stepped in, crowding into me. Two grown men in a small cubicle was not conducive to a vigorous washing, but I soaped him down and paid special attention to the heavy cock that had fucked me so well that night.
He kissed me while I did it, and I would have got on my knees for him if there had been room, but when I tried to turn my soaping into a hand job he seized my wrist. “I need to recharge,” he chuckled against my mouth. “But you, you’re the Energizer Bunny.” He pushed me back against the wet tile, put his face close to mine, and murmured encouragement as he jacked me off, hard and fast, just the way I wanted it. When I came, it spurted all over his belly. He kissed me, grinding his half-hard dick into my soft one just to make me squirm.
I’d figured that out about Angelo, the way he liked to fuck. Half-sweet, half-bitter, like sour candies.
The water ran cold by the time we’d cleaned off a second time, and I felt bad about wasting more time. It was almost midnight, and although Angelo went straight over to the computer and started looking through the task force intel again, I was tired of sitting around waiting, looking for needles in haystacks, and I told him that. “We need something on Walsh. Something substantial. And we need it fast.”
“There is one obvious way.”
“What’s that?” I asked, hoping he’d had some evil genius idea.
“A confession.”
My shoulders slumped. “I thought you were going to say something useful,” I grumbled. “A confession? You think he’s just going to turn up at work one day overcome with guilt, and make a full statement?”
“Of course not.”
“Then—”
“I mean we should go and have a private conversation,” he said softly, and smiled to himself, his eyes predatory.
My mouth dropped open. “Are you—you can’t be serious. Villiers himself said it would be suicide to rock up to Walsh’s place like we did with him. Walsh will have protection and guards and... No, it’s way too risky.”
“Come on. It’ll be fun.”
“Getting shot is theleastfun thing I can think of.”
He grinned. “Fortune favors the bold.”
“Shit,” I said. “This is what happens in your Family, isn’t it? One of you has a crazy idea, tells the others they’re chicken, and the rest of them just climb on board. You know, it actually has a name, this psychological phenomenon—”
He put a finger over my lips. “Bax, you know how much I love hearing you talk psych to me—”
“Ha-ha,” I said under his finger.
