“Fuck,” I said on a groan, my hand not stopping jerking him off. “You’re meant to be taking it easy.” The barest of laughs rushed out my mouth just as my stomach clenched as he continued to caress me.
“I am,” he whispered, following up with a sweet kiss that was nothing like the pace he used to jerk me off. Pulling his mouth away, a small smile curved his lips. I took that as my cue to twist a little and reach close to his groin to flutter my fingers over his balls. His wide-eyed response had me returning his grin before my muscles tightened and heat gathered, this time in the base of my spine.
“You are?” I managed to say.
“Yeah,” he said breathily. “It’s why you’re in my hand and not me.”
His words were too much. The heat turned into flames racing across my body. I had no choice but to slam my eyes closed and press my head against his shoulder as I exploded. My grip tightened on him, somehow remembering to keep working him and not stop or squeeze his cock off as my release tore through me.
Just as he was easing off me, his hand tightened and he coated my hand. His soft moan accompanied his release, the sound something I captured and held on to.
Slowing down my movements, both our bodies still tense and shuddering, my eyes opened fully. Not willing to let go of him and break the moment just yet, I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his. Our mouths teased each other’s, and I smiled against his lips, crazy pleased he kissed me back so willingly.
“Swim in the dam and then a shift?” I suggested as I angled away from him.
“Yeah.” His eyes searched mine. Unsure what he was looking for, I withdrew my hand and followed up with a peck on the lips.
“Come on then. Get your tired arse in there.” I stripped off my jeans fully and made my way to the bank, wading in before Thatch reached me. It didn’t take him long before he was naked at my side. I glanced over at him. “Still holding up?” I asked, concern lilting my voice.
There went that eye-roll again, but this time with a gentle “Yeah. I’m good.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
COMPLICATED WASN’T QUITE the right word for it. And I wasn’t talking about the handjob I’d given Thatch. Instead, it was the whole-unit-being-practically-off-the-books thing, ensuring the “right” details were disclosed to the appropriate people.
I supposed my subterfuge was easy enough, since I was a known agent in Brent’s team. So there were no name changes, not that much deception beyond that I’d been reassigned to a small division for a sting operation.
The problem lay with Thatch and ensuring the titles, his role, the details assigned to his position fit. I’d already had to evade Lucas’s questions a few too many times and was having to do it again now. This time with Thatch by my side.
“Bloody hell, look what the cat dragged in.” Lucas stood and gave me an unceremonious hug. “Was beginning to think you’d pissed Brent off so much he’d finally dug a hole for you.”
I snorted as I patted his back. “As if.” I stepped out of his embrace and glanced at Thatch, who remained stoic at my rear. It was obvious he didn’t like the familiar contact between me and Lucas from the gritting of his teeth. It was heady, him reacting that way. A guy could certainly get used to it. “Thatch, Lucas.”
At the mention of Lucas’s name, understanding seemed to register and Thatch’s jaw unclenched. I’d shared enough about my life for Thatch to know who Lucas was. He stepped forward and held out his hand for Lucas to shake. Lucas did so immediately, but I didn’t miss the slight inclination of his head as he cast me a look that meant he figured I had the hots for Thatch.
The guy had a weird ability to read me so clearly. Whether body language, scent, or he simply knew my type so well, I did not want to get into this with him. And definitely not since we were at the main offices for Brent’s division.
I cast Lucas a pointed look as he stepped away from Thatch and sidled close to him. The arsehole quirked his brow at me in challenge.
“Later.” I groaned in defeat and glanced at Thatch, who appeared bemused.
Before I had the chance to say anything else, Brent stepped out of his office. “Thatcher,” he said, and reached out to shake his hand. “Let’s head to the conference room.” He turned his back on me without any acknowledgement. He was such a turd.
Refusing to let him affect me, I rolled my eyes at Lucas, then stepped next to Thatch and headed to Brent, who turned at the door to open it. His gaze landed on me, and I was certain he was desperate to sneer but seemed to be holding himself in check.
“Callen, you can wa—”
“Callen’s in the meeting with me.” Thatch’s response was immediate.
I clamped on to the insides of my cheeks to stop the grin trying to form.
“But I don’t—” Brent attempted, but Thatch cut him off.
“It’s not open for
