The wild, careless grin that flashed over Bass’s face still caught somewhere in Tag’s chest. “Could be that too, Doc,” Bass admitted easily. “You know I’ll pay you back, though, one way or another.”
He shifted closer, body pressed against Tag’s, and nudged his thighs apart with one knee. The pressure flicked pleasure along Tag’s nerves and picked at the foundations of his good intentions. Tag licked his lips—the water was warm and dull against his tongue—and swallowed.
“Stop it,” he said firmly. It took more effort than he could justify to make his voice sound undistracted. “This isn’t going to work”
Bass raised his eyebrows and glanced down between their bodies. The corner of his mouth tilted in a wicked smirk. “Really?” he drawled as he rubbed his thigh against Tag’s hard cock. “Because it looks like it’s working okay.”
Heat scorched through Tag from his balls all the way to his throat. He exhaled and blew drops of water off his lips. If he gave in to temptation now, it would just make it more difficult later. He knew that, but he already had. He tightened his grip on Bass’s ass and pulled him closer, bodies pressed together from shoulders to thighs.
“It works fine,” he growled as he twisted them around so Bass was pressed against the white tiles. “I’d be happy to show you if you want.”
Bass rested his head back against the wall, out of the stream of water. His arms hung over Tag’s shoulders, his hands dangled down behind him, and his lazy lust gave way to a thoughtful expression. “I like you, Doc,” he said as he shifted so Tag’s erection rubbed against his thigh. “You definitely like me. So why cut your cock off to spite your face?”
“Because you dragged me into an illegal surgery that could have cost me my license or gotten me killed? Or arrested?”
“Jesus, are you ever going to let that go?” Bass mocked him, a flicker of sharp frustration in his voice. Tag drew back, the month-old knot of anger suddenly tight again, but Bass caught the back of his neck. His wet fingers were rough as he pulled Tag back in. “It was a joke, Doc. I fucked up, and I won’t do it again.”
Tag sighed and rested his forehead against Bass’s.
“How can I trust you?” he asked.
“You can’t. You shouldn’t,” Bass said. “I lie to everyone, and I’m not gonna stop. It’s like a shark. If I stop lying, a whole lot of shit is going to catch up with me. There’s stuff I’ve done that you’ll never know about and don’t want to. Does it matter?”
What was more terrible, Tag wondered—the casual way Bass talked about a life built on, lived in, deception, or that, as Bass idly stroked the line of his throat with his thumb, he had already started to shift justifications around until it all sounded reasonable.
There was stuff he didn’t, would never, want to talk about, and it turned out there was a hell of a lot his ex had kept from him—a whole nurse and his tattooed ass, in fact. Bass’s secrets were more likely to be felonies than moral lapses or old traumas. Still, if Tag wedged this justification into the corner and that one over the trapdoor before….
“Eventually it will,” Tag admitted.
Bass shrugged and dragged him down into a stubble-rough kiss.
“We aren’t built for eventually,” he said against Tag’s mouth, his jaw. “That’s obvious. Look at us. I have a criminal record, a lot of secrets, and an impulse control problem. You’re still hung up on your ex, and you want some suburban daydream with a brat and the earning potential of that buttoned-up accountant from the fair.”
“… lawyer,” Tag muttered as he tilted his head to the side so Bass could scrape a hard kiss over his pulse. His hands drifted over the tight lines of Bass’s back, from the lean waist to the thick straps of muscle across his shoulders.
Bass acknowledged the correction with a shrug but pushed on anyhow.
“Look at it this way. This, what we have, is like your shit-heap Mustang. You know it’s going to crap out on you eventually, sooner rather than later, but while it lasts… it’s hot to look at and fun to drive. So why not?”
“Am I the Mustang?”
Bass tilted his head back enough to give Tag a wry look. “Of the two of us? Not likely.”
It wasn’t as though he’d even made a bad decision. He’d just… put off the good one. But that wasn’t fair to either of them.
“It won’t—”
“Not morning yet,” Bass reminded him as he broke the kiss. He ran his hand down Tag’s chest, over the wet mat of hair, and across his stomach. He dipped his fingertips into Tag’s wet navel and then lower. He closed his callused fingers roughly around a handful of hard cock and tender balls and squeezed gently. Sensation zapped through Tag’s body, a little bit of pain and a lot of pleasure. Or the other way around. Whatever it was, it made Tag gasp and bite his lower lip. Bass looked smug. “Think about it. No strings—unless that’s what you’re into—just sex. Like this.”
He loosened his hold on Tag’s balls and went down on his knees in the halfway-to-overflowed shower tray. His breath was cold against the length of Tag’s cock, and then his mouth was hot and tight around it. Tag hissed a curse, cupped his hand around Bass’s head, and tangled his fingers through the wet curls. His balls ached, and the flick of Bass’s tongue against the underside of his cock made Tag’s nerve endings spark and splutter with want. He leaned back against the wall of the shower enclosure, the glass wall cold against his shoulders, and gave up.
Why not? He was going to write off this year anyhow and fill what was left of it with bad dates and one-night stands. This way he could streamline the process with one big really bad decision instead of a lot of minor ones.
Tag closed his eyes and folded his lip between his teeth as he felt the sharp, electric pleasure build in his balls. He didn’t know if he was still hung up on his ex, but not once, all night, had he woken up in the groggy, sex-sweaty darkness and mistaken the body wrapped possessively around him for Kieran’s.
Even half-asleep, he’d known it was Bass.
THERE WASno time for breakfast. Tag slurped instant coffee, black, unsweetened—at some point, he had to actually get groceries—from a chipped black mug and shoved a forkful of cold noodles into his mouth. The combination was not great, but he choked it down.
