Page 9 of How Much For a Life of Lies?

In that moment, nothing else mattered. All that existed was the two of us, lost in each other’s embrace, consumed by lust, and gasping for air. He unzipped my loose jeans and had his hand on my cock before I could even consider getting my hands on him.

“Get mine out,” he ordered, and I bristled at being told what to do, then gave in just as quickly. We chased the end to this, and for me it might make my crappy career choices seem less worrying. “Fuck,” he groaned into a kiss, and then I followed him over, our cum hot, then wet and cold.

We pulled ourselves together, adjusting our pants, him grimacing and me feeling as disgusted. I hadn’t come in my pants so hard from a hand job since I was a horny teenager. Now what? I had a condom. There was a motel a few blocks from here. I could imagine sinking into him, and I reached for him, but he stepped back and wiped his hand on his Henley before sketching a fake salute.

“Later, Assassin,” he said.

Fuck. Why was he leaving? I leaned against the wall, watched him stalk away to a beaten-up truck, and stared as the truck’s taillights disappeared into the distance.

“Later,” I said to no one at all.

The following day, I was in a debrief at eight a.m., Tramell pulled me up on insubordination, Bowers and Crowley refused to have my back, and at eight-oh-seven, I punched the LT square in the face.

With him on the floor nursing a broken nose, my hand burned where I’d split my knuckles, I thought maybe…

… just maybe everyone was right…

I couldn’t fake respect, and hell, I was out of control.

FIVE

Zach

Three months later

“Would you like a coffee, Mr. Reynolds?” the secretary asked.

“No thank you, ma’am.”

“I’m sure they won’t be too long,” she added, and before I could answer that I was way too early, the phone distracted her.

With no choice but to wait for the meeting, all I could do was stare at the wall, but when I glanced around the room, my eyes caught a flicker of movement—a figure disappearing into one of the nearby offices.

For a split second, my chest tightened at the sight of the short, dark-haired man in jeans and a white shirt, a surge of conflicting emotions coursing through me—was that Kai? Memories of that heated moment we’d shared months ago poked at me, of getting off against a wall, and as if Pavlov had rung a damn sex bell, I was hard in my dress pants.

Not a good thing.

I’d thought about Kai more than a few times since that night, assuming he’d lost his role in 427, that he was out there causing chaos, standing up to the bad guys, and maybe becoming an assassin. I’d never worried enough to check where he’d ended up. After all, he’d just been a semi-anonymous fuck.

A hot temptation in a small package.

Someone who’d wormed their way into my days—and nights—without me realizing.

Hell, he was probably off causing trouble somewhere else, if he was even alive, far from the confines of this bland corporate office. I shook my head, pushing the distracting thoughts aside, forcing myself to focus on the clock, which inched closer to eleven.

This was no time to dwell on past hookups, however hot they’d been, especially not when I was about to meet this new team. I needed to focus, to prove I would fit in this role, and to leave the past where it belonged.

Right along with the grief and the memories and the pain.

Today marked my first-day post-SEALs, working with an independent foundation—Sanctuary—a significant shift from my time with the Navy. The Navy had handpicked and loaned me out and moved me on when they couldn’t place me on a new SEAL team, and the transition had been a whirlwind of paperwork, briefings, and introductions.

I followed the secretary’s gesture and took a seat, thinking that Oz would have been flirting with the pretty lady the moment we stepped in, and McKenzie would urge him to cool his jets, apologizing to the woman because Oz didn’t care who he flirted with.

A familiar grief snatched my breath.

Oz had died on my watch two months ago, wouldn’t be flirting with anyone else, gone too young. Then McKenzie retired, and our solid band of brothers was two key members down. It was on me to either adapt to a new MC or move on. Headhunted by a new covert team, with the Navy backing the move, I was ready to go.

“Petty Officer? You can go in now.” The secretary motioned at the door opposite.

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