Page 3 of Demented

Lazarus didn’t want him too curious. Noir likely had the connections to find out anything he wanted about Lazarus. He didn’t want Noir digging. “He didn’t give me your number, but my best friend is Cutler Maine. That gives me some connections in your circle.” There. Cutler wasn’t his best friend. It seemed they were friends, as far as people like them had friends. Honestly, they were more like colleagues. He didn’t know what they were. Lazarus liked Cutler more than most, he supposed. Mostly, Lazarus just needed to douse Noir’s curiosity.

“Ah.” Noir nodded. “An assassin. That explains a lot.”

Lazarus froze.

Noir smirked. “You’re not the only one who knows things. I’m observant.”

Lazarus couldn’t believe his ears. “You’re observant.” He didn’t know why he repeated Noir’s claim. There was just no way he had observed that.

A sexy chuckle rumbled from Noir.

Lazarus cleared his throat. He wiped his palms on his thighs. “That doesn’t bother you?” Food and a beer appeared in front of him. Lazarus blinked.

“I ordered for us. The less time we have to sit here, the better.”

It seemed as if Lazarus should have some complaint, but everything Noir chose was perfect. “Uh. Thanks.”

Noir waited until the server moved away to get back to their earlier topic. “Why would I be bothered?” It took Lazarus a second to recall where their conversation had left off. Noir didn’t wait for him to answer. “I have no reason to concern myself with anyone else’s business. To be honest, I don’t care enough.”

Fuck. That was oddly hot. He was the picture of an unconcerned, bored, and spoiled elitist. Yet something about him reminded Lazarus of himself. He had never fucked anyone who knew his secrets. Lazarus didn’t have to guard his every thought and word. He couldn’t decide how he felt. Noir likely couldn’t prove his observation, but he could force Lazarus to run if he talked. Lazarus had intended to unbalance Noir. Instead, he was the one thrown off his game.

“I see,” Noir said when Lazarus still hadn’t found his voice. “You think I’m just an empty-headed royal?”

That spurred Lazarus’ brain into action. “No. I think you’re too intelligent for your own good.” Lazarus paused, trying to decide if he would continue. His mouth chose for him. “And incredibly sexy. I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on by anyone.”

Noir’s mouth lifted in one corner. “We’ll see.” He took a bite of his food, leaving Lazarus still reeling from only a short fifteen-minute conversation. Lazarus was more than aroused and intrigued. He was downright obsessed with the need to know more. Lazarus had never been this focused on a target he didn’t intend to kill. Noir was fascinating as hell. Lazarus was hooked.

Dinner was enlightening. If—at any time—people wanted to understand other people, all it always took was one look at their friends. He knew Lazarus hadn’t expected admitting a friendship with Cutler would expose him. Perhaps it wouldn’t have if they weren’t so different. Cutler was part of the upper crust. Atlantic City crème de la crème. The only way someone like Lazarus would be on the same level as Cutler was to know him by trade. Still, it had been a slight risk by saying the words aloud. Of course, he could have played the accusation off as a joke if he had been wrong. But the moment Lazarus had namedCutler, the clouds had cleared. Everything about Lazarus made sense. Noir would be amazed if Lazarus was even the guy’s name. Unfortunately, the revelation also explained Lazarus’ earlier laser focus on Andreas. If someone had a contract on Noir’s top supplier, Noir needed to know who and why. Not quite as unfortunately, that meant Noir wasn’t finished with Lazarus yet. He could have Ajax torture the information from him, but why? Noir wasn’t bored yet.

Outside the restaurant, they stood next to a Harley that obviously belonged to Lazarus. Noir honestly didn’t want the night to end. “I’d invite you back to my place, but you’ve already shot me down once today.”

Lazarus flipped open the saddlebag on his bike and produced a second helmet. “How about a counteroffer? Come with me?” He acted as if he planned to hand the helmet to Noir before pulling it back again. “Of course, your security team won’t fit on my bike.”

Noir fought a smile. This guy. He was something else. “I adore that you obviously think they can’t stay on your tail and invisible. Do you have any idea what it takes to be a royal guard? Even your SEALs could never.”

“It probably takes at least a quarter of your arrogance, so I’m sure they’re talented.”

A bark of laughter burst from Noir without his permission. Noir never laughed. Life had stopped entertaining him years ago. “More than a quarter.” He accepted the helmet and made a quickgesture, alerting his team to follow. Nearby headlights fired to life. “It’s only fair to warn you, though. If you kill me on this thing, you’ll likely be beheaded.”

Lazarus’ smile never wavered. “Fair enough.”

After donning the helmet, he climbed on behind Lazarus. His hands slid across the man’s stomach as he scooted in close to hang on. Soft flesh over solid muscle stirred a dark hunger inside him. This man was a killer. A hunter. A predator. And Noir was demented. He craved the violence. Noir wanted to get fucked. The longer he stayed pressed against Lazarus’ back, the larger his hunger grew. Lazarus drove along the coast. Noir’s hands found their way beneath Lazarus’ shirt before moving lower. He knew he played a dangerous game. His teasing could get them killed, but Lazarus seemed to have ironclad self-control. That detail only made Noir hotter. Lazarus would be focused. Noir wanted that.

Lazarus suddenly veered onto an almost invisible beach-way entry. Noir didn’t question anything. His mind was too far gone. At the end of the road, there was a small beach house. It was hidden from sight—like it had been built specifically to be advertised as a secluded honeymoon getaway. Before Noir had time to think, he was over Lazarus' shoulder and headed through the door. The place was dark inside. His helmet went flying before his back hit the inside of the closed front door.

“Fucking tease.” Lazarus' mouth covered his. His hands were everywhere. Noir was so aroused, he couldn’t breathe. Lazarus tore at his clothes, stripping him so deftly Noir barely noticed. Noir let it happen. This was what he wanted—to feel alive. Heneeded someone desperate for him. Noir didn’t want to think anymore.

Noir pushed Lazarus’ shirt up until Lazarus took the hint and let him have it. He only got the quick glance before Lazarus was on him again, but wow. Noir’s hunger doubled. He was perfect, and all that ink… yum.

While in a lust-filled haze, Noir watched Lazarus tear into foil packages, using his teeth. He didn’t even know where they came from. Then his mouth was back. He controlled Noir, fingering him with wet fingers. When his feet left the floor, Noir scrambled to keep up. His legs wrapped around Lazarus’ hips like they belonged there. Lazarus shoved his arm between his body and Noir’s leg, manipulating Noir’s body into the position he wanted. He did it so easily—like Noir weighed nothing. Noir had never been more invested. Lazarus dictated every move. Noir was just along for the ride. Then Lazarus impaled him. Noir made a sound he had never even heard before. It was pleasure and surrender.

Lazarus held his stare as he lifted and lowered Noir, using his body like a toy. He openly studied Noir’s every reaction. There was no emotion in his expression. He was a cold perfectionist, taking what he wanted while ensuring Noir enjoyed every second. If Noir wasn’t so crazed with need, he might have been turned off by the disconnect. But Lazarus was a magician. His every move was meant to please. Noir almost felt like some sort of science project, and he was prepared to beg for every second of it.

Then Lazarus’ lips parted on a pant. He suddenly didn’t look as in control. Noir couldn’t look away. Sweat coated Lazarus’ torso. He leaned into things. Noir’s vision swam. Everything felt amazing. His body was twisted with the need to reach the edge. He held his breath as his muscles tensed.

“Give it to me.”

Until that moment, Noir hadn’t even noticed the silence. But the sound of Lazarus’ hungry demand sent Noir flying. His entire body twitched as he cried out, unable to control the sounds he made. His vision dimmed as his body jerked and shook. Cum flew through the space between them. A drop hit Lazarus’ lip. Noir had never come so hard in his life. Lazarus’ tongue shot out, licking away the cum. Noir swore he couldn’t even blink. He was immersed. Lazarus’ breath hitched. His eyes fell closed. That was it. He didn’t make a sound. The muscle in his jaw worked overtime—like he bit back all the sounds as he fought to stay silent. It was fascinating. Noir couldn’t look away. He memorized every detail. When Lazarus’ eyes opened and he focused on Noir again, Noir’s heart stopped as the full ramifications hit. This guy was a monster. He wouldn’t stop until he found his prey. Noir was totally fucked.

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