Page 17 of Nothing But the Night (Basic Instincts 2)

“Undoubtedly. Unless they knew what they were doing and are already on their way back to London.”

“To Soloman Archer, you mean? You think he sent a professional hitman to shut Dan up before he could talk to us?”

“I don’t know what I think. I sure as fuck don’t have any evidence. And without that, I have nothing.” He opened his hand and blew away imaginary dust.

“What did that detective say when you spoke to him?”

“Benito? He didn’t give anything away. Only that they want to see us tomorrow to give them a more detailed statement.”

“And what will you say? About why we were there.”

Jason shrugged. “I need to sleep on that one.” He knocked off the rest of his drink and returned to the counter for a refill. Marc did the same.

His eyes were drawn again to Jason’s nipples. The clinging T-shirt left little to the imagination, defining his shoulders and the broad slabs of his pectorals. He had strong biceps. He obviously worked out, but not to an obsessive degree. He looked beautifully fit rather than a gym fanatic. Marc questioned again why he should notice something like that after the horrors they’d experienced tonight.

He realised with alarm that Jason had caught him looking. His wide eyes stared directly at Marc, then lowered, as though checking him out too. Marc’s pulse quickened. He picked up the glass and carried it back to the window. His hand trembled. He didn’t want Jason to see that too.

“I wonder if they’ve told them yet,” he said.

“Told who?”

“Dan’s family. Have they received that dreadful knock at the door? The one that only means bad news.”

“It’s over four hours since we found him. The police are bound to have called on them by now. If they can be relied on to do their fucking job, that is.”

“You don’t like cops.”

He heard the sound of Jason’s footsteps on the floor behind him. His heart quickened.Is this what I think it is? Or am I reading this all wrong?

“You’re shaking,” Jason said, his voice was close.

“I don’t think I’ve warmed up yet.” The lie was desperate even to his own ears.

“What do I think of the police? In Blyham? Not a lot. After the last year, even less.”

Although Marc didn’t live in the city, he couldn’t have escaped the horror of the Blyham Strangler, who had terrorised the LGBTQIA community for eighteen months. Six men had been murdered before he was caught. But he wasn’t the only massive failure on the part of the local authorities. Hate crime had been on rise for a long time before he’d claimed his first victim, and the police had done little to curb it. Despite a sizeable gay village in the heart of the city, Blyham was one of the most dangerous places in the country for that community.Hiscommunity.

Jason was close behind him. Marc could feel his breath on the back of his neck.

He wanted him. He hadn’t been this attracted to a man since Jack had died. Marc hadn’t been living a life of celibacy either, but all he was ever interested in was getting his rocks off and moving on. He didn’t care about names or professions or getting to know anyone better than for what they had under their clothes. What made Jason so different?

Marc turned around. Jason was inches from his face. So handsome. His eyes glinting with the lights from the window.

“What—?”

Before he could form a question, Jason’s face was up in his. Their lips touched. Then they were open, yielding against each other, tongues thrusting. Marc wrapped a fist around Jason’s head and pulled him deeper into the kiss. Their beards and stubble rasped against their skins. The scent of his body, his cologne, the booze on his breath was intoxicating.

Marc was hard and it was clear to discern that Jason was too.

Jason had put down his drink. He grasped Marc’s head in both hands, intensifying the passion and heat of the kiss. Finally, they broke away, panting in each other’s faces. Skin flushed.

“Shouldn’t be doing this,” Jason growled. He pressed his cheek against Marc’s. His tongue followed the line of his jaw, all the way to the ear.

“I don’t care,” Marc said. He dipped sideways to get rid of his glass, before going all in for Jason. His hands went straight for his jeans, tearing open his belt, riving at the fly buttons. Jason untucked Marc’s shirt and slid underneath. Marc shivered as he ran his hands around his torso. No one had even touched him like this since Jack. With casual hook ups, Marc would bend them over, take them from behind and be on his way. This was more intimate. So much more intense. He hadn’t even appreciated how desperate for sex he was.

He shoved Jason’s jeans to his thighs. He grabbed his hips and realised Jason was wearing a jockstrap. He slipped around the back, cupping his bare arse. His cock was ignited further. He thought he would burst. With a deep groan, he tightened his grip on Jason’s bare backside, pulling their hips together, crushing their raging cocks in between. There was a wetness in the front of his own underwear as he leaked pre-cum.

Jason forced his own hands down the back of Marc’s trousers, straight into his briefs, to cup his butt. Marc groaned again. No one had been close to that in years, now he was letting Jason maul it like a prime piece of meat. It was so fucking hot.

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