Page 11 of Thunder Road

Simon leaned over to brush his lips across Vic’s cheek. “I think you’re fine just the way you are.”

Vic sipped his beer and watched the familiar movie, glad he didn’t have to think hard to follow the story. “We read what you sent us. Makes a great story. Hard to believe it’s true but…maybe so.”

“I’m going to talk to Father Anne and give Miss Eppie and Mrs. Teller a call.” Simon cited three of his best sources for supernatural information. “See what they’ve heard and what they think might be the best way to handle things. Maybe some poor suckers in the past have tried to kill the entity and been poofed out of existence, so we’ll know what to avoid.”

“Promise you’ll be careful.” Vic took Simon’s hand. “Don’t get poofed.”

Simon folded Vic’s hands between his own. “I will do my very best not to. I have plenty to stick around for.”

Vic knew he was being hypocritical making Simon vow not to take chances. Vic was a cop, and risk went with the badge. Growing up in a law enforcement family, Vic had learned to rationalize the dangers and remain cautious without dwelling on the possibilities.

Their time together had proven that Vic was not as good at dealing with the threat of harm when it came to Simon.

Especially since the supernatural problems that threatened Simon’s safety were things Vic couldn’t punch or stop with a bullet. Although he often backed up Simon when he and his colleagues worked spells or took on paranormal dangers, Vic always fretted that his lack of magic or psychic abilities meant his protections fell short.

“Quit worrying.” Simon looked at him with a smirk. “It doesn’t take a mind reader to pick up on what you’re thinking. And I feel the same way every time you go out to deal with a police problem.”

Vic leaned against Simon’s shoulder. “I know. We’ve talked about it and muddled through before. But it doesn’t get easier. Like being deployed—there’s always risk.”

“That’s where it helps that we have such an awesome bunch of friends who can save our asses.” Simon rested his cheek on the top of Vic’s head. “I’m not going to do anything about the entity or the deal until I know what’s involved—and if it isn’t worth the downside, we walk away and let things go on the way they have been.”

“Promise?”

Simon kissed Vic’s hair. “Promise.”

Vic turned toward Simon and pulled him in for a kiss, slow and tender. He licked at Simon’s lips, slipping inside his mouth. Simon’s hands moved across Vic’s shoulders, down his back, then back up to the nape of his neck, caressing.

“What do you want?” Simon murmured next to his ear, voice deep and sensual. “What will make you feel better?”

Vic pulled back from the kiss far enough to speak. “You. Maybe just slow tonight.”

“We don’t have to do anything except touch,” Simon assured him, letting his hands rove. “We can snuggle—clothing optional.”

“I like that,” Vic murmured. “Never thought I’d be playing the too tired to tango card as a newlywed.”

Simon kissed him again, and Vic let him take the lead. “There isn’t a sex quota.”

“Are you sure?” Vic joked tiredly.

“Yep. Positive. That’s what weekends are for,” Simon assured him. “Although if a hand job would relax you, I’m happy to oblige.”

“Sounds just like what the doctor ordered—Dr. Kincaide,” Vic teased, using Simon’s university title.

“I can make that happen.” Simon’s hand slipped lower, moving between Vic’s legs and stroking over his bulge. Vic spread his thighs wider, knowing his jeans were going to get tight very quickly. He returned the favor, rubbing his palm over Simon’s half-hard cock.

“How do you want it?” Simon’s voice sounded like whiskey and sin.

“Want it together. Want to feel you,” Vic replied, already a little breathless.

Simon worked Vic’s belt and then unbuttoned his jeans. Vic hurried to slip them off as Simon pushed down the sweatpants he had changed into while waiting for Vic to come home.

Vic closed his hand over their cocks and bit back a moan. They were both leaking pre-come, but not quite enough to ease the friction of rough palms. Simon reached between the couch cushions for the lube he kept handy and added a daub, slicking their hands.

“Not going to last,” Vic warned.

“Didn’t expect to. Just want to make you feel good before bedtime.” Simon’s mouth was so close to Vic’s ear that his breath made Vic shiver. “Let go, Vic. Come on. Give it up for me.”

The low rumble of Simon’s voice and the warmth of his breath on Vic’s neck was all it took to push Vic over the edge. Vic gasped and arched, spilling over their joined hands. Simon followed seconds later.

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