Page 8 of Skin Deep

Warrick came over and jammed the needle into my ass hard enough that I winced.

“Just how I like it,” I added as he pushed down the plunger.

He snorted in amusement. Finally, a reaction. So there was a human somewhere in that psycho suit after all.

Warrick pulled the needle out and pressed a cotton swab to the hole he left, taping it in place. “Will you tell her?”

“Who?” I asked.

“Jamina Gordon. Are you going to tell her he’s dead?”

I frowned and rubbed the sore spot on my ass. “Wish I could. She’s in the ICU on life support. Tried to off herself after everything that fucker did to her.”

“Jesus,” he whispered.

I turned around and found him offering me a pair of folded white scrubs and hesitated. They looked an awful lot like the DOC clothes they made me wear on the inside, and I didn’t want to put them on, but since he took my clothes, I didn’t have much choice.

“Sorry if they don’t fit,” he muttered as I took the pile of clothes. “We don’t keep your size in stock.”

“Surprised you have all this,” I said, relieved that the conversation had shifted away from Jamina. “Seems like you’ve got a well-oiled operation going here, Warrick.”

Warrick shrugged. “I know what I’m doing.”

I tugged the pants on and found them way too short. Luckily, the waistband was elastic, but they still clung tightly to my thighs, leaving nothing at all to the imagination. “So is this a full time gig for you?”

He didn’t answer. He was too busy staring at the outline of my cock in my pants, and once again my cock was taking notice of all the attention. It’d been too long since I’d been laid. Way too fucking long.

Was this the time or place?

Fuck, if I can’t get laid in an abandoned meat packing plant meters from a dead pedophile, where can I? I took a step forward.

Warrick’s gaze snapped up to mine briefly before he turned away.

I caught his hand, trying to hold him in place. With the way he was acting, I expected a fight, but even I didn’t expect the scalpel he pulled out of fucking nowhere. If I hadn’t grabbed his other hand, he’d have opened my throat for sure. The prospect of having my throat slit should’ve been a definite mood killer, but if anything, it made me harder, especially when he tipped his head back and gave me that heated look. It was like he was daring me to taste him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he demanded when I leaned down.

I stopped close enough to his face that I could smell him. Fuck, he smelled like vanilla cupcakes. How was I supposed to not want to eat that up? “I know you’re hot for me.”

“I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“This says different.” I released his unarmed fist to palm his obvious erection.

He tried to take a swing at me, but I pushed him against the nearby wall, pinning him there with my forehead resting against his.

“Go on,” I purred, working his cock through the thin layer of his scrubs. “I’m right here. If you want a taste, take it.”

Warrick closed a fist against my chest, looking down to watch my hand move. His other hand tightened around the scalpel, his knuckles turning white. He started breathing faster, making no move to fight what I was doing to him. After a few moments, he closed his eyes. I thought he was surrendering, but when he opened them again, there were practically sparks flying in those icy blue eyes. He was either about to murder me, or we were about to have the hottest sex of my life.

Too bad I didn’t get to find out which because footsteps came down the corridor. I released him. We were both still scrambling to get away from each other when his brother came through the door.

“Hey, War, where’s the…” The kid trailed off when he saw us tugging at our clothes. A smirk slowly spread over his face. “Am I interrupting?”

Warrick—War—offered an impressive scowl. “No, and I don’t know where you left your stuff so don’t ask.” He turned his back to the door and pretended to go fiddle with his briefcase.

“What about you?” the kid said, eying me. “You going to do something useful? Or just kill my mark and leave?”

I chuckled and tossed the shirt War had given to me at him. It wasn’t going to fit me anyway. “Nah. I did what I came to do. Wouldn’t want to mess up your operation.”

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