Page 127 of The Butterfly Killer

While Marcus contemplated whether he should wait a day or two before sitting on Roman’s dick, Roman’s steady breathing changed patterns, signaling he was no longer sleeping.

Under the guise of night, Marcus hadn’t had to face the bad choice he was making. Darkness had been a poor excuse. In the shadows, he’d convinced himself it was nothing more than a sick fantasy come to life. Now, with the morning light awakening the apartment like he’d never seen it before, he couldn’t hide from the harsh reality his life had become.

He’d slept with a killer. Hiskidnapper.

But he didn’t freak out. There was a calm in him that he hadn’t felt since before his mom died.

All he felt now was sated. His body was heavy after what they’d done, fucked into submission and his mind felt the same. His thoughts were…nonexistent except for the ones that replayed how good it had been to kiss Roman.

Speaking of…

Marcus turned over. He winced as a sharp pain went up his spine from his lower back.

Roman’s hand slid down to cup Marcus’s ass. “Too much?”

His voice was gravely. Marcus smiled then gave Roman a kiss. He’d meant it to be chaste, but it seemed neither of them cared for it to be cut short. They made out as Roman groped Marcus, pulling him close until they started to grind on each other.

Marcus was fully prepared to say “fuck it” and hop on Roman’s lap to ride him hard when his phone started ringing.

Marcus broke the kiss. “Shit.”

Roman raised a brow.

The question was asked and as much as Marcus would love to just abandon his job, he wasn’t entirely prepared to give up his entire life—though he would in a heartbeat if Roman asked him.

He reluctantly pulled away and rolled off the bed. The floor was cold. The room was more of a mess than he initially thought. He was relieved Roman hadn’t cared about the growing mess. He made a list of to-dos as he searched for the pants he’d been wearing last night.

He found them at the end of the bed, twisted in the bunched up comforter. He wrangled them out of the fabric mess. As he answered it, without looking at the caller ID, he plucked off the one sock still on his foot.

“Hello?”

“Officer Palmer. Or should I start calling you Detective?”

Marcus’s brows shot up and he turned to face Roman who was now sitting up in the bed, watching him.

“Palmer?”Mercer asked a little firmer.

“Y-Yes,” Marcus answered, his mouth suddenly dry as if Mercer could see into his apartment. He cleared his throat. “What can I help you with?”

“Funny you should ask that,”Mercer mused.

Roman cocked his head. He slowly got up. Marcus gave a little shake of his head, but that only made Roman curiouser about who was on the phone.

Marcus didn’t quite understand why he was starting to feel extremely uncomfortable. Could it be the fact that he was harboring a criminal and he had the FBI on the line? While his police department was no longer investigating Roman or the cartel, the FBI, specifically Mercer and Burns, still were.

“Are you alone, Palmer?”

Marcus’s face burned as he watched Roman walk toward him. There was curiosity, but also a glint in his eye that Marcus was apprehensive about. He took a step back.

Roman pounced.

Marcus bit his tongue so he didn’t let out a yelp as Roman grabbed him and yanked him back against his chest. Their naked bodies pressed against each other. Marcus’s dick was quick to awaken, hardening against his belly.

He only then realized a little too late that he hadn’t answered Mercer. “Yes, I’m alone.”

Roman softly snickered. He kissed along Marcus’s neck.

“Good. As you might know, Agent Burns and I have continued to work on the Cortez case. We have a favor to ask.”

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