At the same time, he didn’t think he was strong enough to resist.
Chapter Eight
Sunday, August 7, 2022
Brantley stirred from the sound of hiscell phone ringing on the bedside table. Out of habit, he reached over and touched Reese’s leg, ensuring himself he was there. With a sigh, he rolled onto his back, glanced at the clock.
0416—this couldn’t be good.
He grabbed his phone. “Walker.”
“I hate to wake you this early,” Zachariah Tavoularis said, “but I’m gonna need your team on an assignment.”
“Local?”
“No.”
Reese moved beside him, relaxing when Brantley put his hand on his leg and patted, a signal that it wasn’t a dire emergency.
“How long do I have to get the team in?”
“An hour. Hour and a half tops.”
“All right. How many do you need?”
“Your best and brightest, at the minimum.”
“Lemme call ’em in. I’ll call you back.”
Brantley disconnected and set the phone on the nightstand.
“Z?” Reese’s voice was thick with sleep.
“Yup.”
“Local job?”
“Nope.”
“Figures.”
Brantley grinned at Reese’s grumble. Since they’d officially shifted under the umbrella of Sniper 1 Security, their jobs were taking them out of town more often. Brantley didn’t mind, and he knew Reese didn’t either, but due to the diverse situations of their team members, it often required a bit of juggling.
“I’ll call JJ,” Brantley told Reese, still lying on his back, eyes closed. “You text Slade and Evan—”
“Evan’s got his daughter’s birthday party this weekend.”
“Right.” Brantley sighed, rearranging the puzzle pieces in his head. “Text Slade, Atticus, and Becs. Let ’em know we’ll need ’em to be ready when we give the signal.”
When Reese didn’t say anything, Brantley rolled toward his nightstand. Before he could reach for his phone, Reese was spooning up against him.
“How long did Z give us?” Reese asked, his lips trailing along Brantley’s shoulder.
“Hour and a half tops.”
“I only need a small percentage of that.”
“Oh, the sexy things you say, Tavoularis,” Brantley teased. His chuckle turned to a groan when Reese reached over his hip and gripped Brantley’s cock.
