Page 47 of Out of Control

The complete lack of visual cues in the darkness made the tactile sensations of Spencer’s mouth moving on his that much more intense. He felt Spencer’s lips curve into a smile, and he followed suit, smiling back. Yeah. It was nice to be doing this again. Better than nice. Great.

It had been way too long.

Why had they stayed apart, anyway? At the moment, he couldn’t fathom what had taken them so long to do this.

Their pant zippers rubbed, and his cock stirred with interest. He felt Spencer’s doing the same. He groaned under his breath. “God, I’d love to strip you down and fuck you right here.” He sighed and added reluctantly, “But Ihaveto prove my innocence.”

“As long as you know I’m not scared, I’m good to continue.”

To continuewhat? Making out? Having smoking-hot sex in the dark? Tonight’s mission?

Hopefully all of the above.

Regretfully, he stepped back. “We won’t need night optical devices. We’ll be alone down here, so we can use flashlights.”

“Cool.” Fabric rustled, and Spencer flipped on a flashlight. In its glow, Drago could see the bright flush in Spencer’s cheeks. The curse of the guy’s fair skin. Good thing he had his own dark tan going, or he would probably look just as hot and bothered.

He spun away lest he throw aside the idea of saving himself in favor of sex with Spencer. Man, he was breathing hard.

While he counted in his head and tried to slow his respiration to something resembling normal, he fished in the corner and found the heavy steel bar he’d stashed when he’d first set up this escape route. He dropped it into the brackets he’d welded in place on each side of the door—an ancient but effective technique for blocking a door.

Drago pulled out his own flashlight and flipped it on, pointing it ahead of them. A low, arched tunnel built of German Empire–era brick stretched away in the darkness.

“Nice bolt hole,” Spencer murmured.

“Necessary for coal in the 1800s. Even more necessary for avoiding the secret police in the Soviet era. Handy as hell now. C’mon.”

He moved quickly down the low passage, crossing below the street overhead, bypassing side tunnels that led to the neighboring houses’ basements and following the old coal delivery tunnel until it reached a four-way intersection.

“This is where I would lose any pursuers who might come after me,” Drago commented.

“Sweet escape setup. And here I thought I was the one obsessed with preparedness.”

“I’m no Boy Scout,” Drago snorted. “I just like the idea of staying alive. And in my line of work, that means having contingency plans.”

“And contingency plans for the contingency plans,” Spencer added.

“Precisely.”

They exchanged brief smiles.

Dammit, there went his pulse again.

Focus.He had to prove he didn’t kill Fayez Khoury. Then Spencer….

Drago continued straight through the intersection, and the tunnel widened. Ancient steel rail tracks lined the floor now. He took off jogging, and Spencer followed easily. They jogged for almost a mile before Drago veered into an unmarked side tunnel. It was only a few yards to a staircase. He climbed it quickly, punched in a number code to a lock pad, and the manhole cover swung up silently on a hinge.

Spencer followed him up to a narrow alley with exits at each end. As Drago pushed the manhole cover back down, Spencer muttered, “What the hell was that? High-tech lock, hinged cover? Stairs?”

“East German secret police found these tunnels in the late 1970s. They built this exit from the tunnels in the early ’80s. Seemed a waste not to maintain it.”

Spencer shook his head. “I knew you were a spy, but I didn’t know you’re a freaking spy master.”

He shrugged. “After you left, I didn’t have anything better to do with my life.”

He felt Spencer freeze behind him, and only then did he realize what he’d said. Aww, hell. He shouldn’t have let that slip. Since when was he careless about anything he said? Spencer really did mess with his head like nobody else.

“Brothel’s just up ahead,” he muttered in an effort to get back in the game and maybe distract Spencer.

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