Page 33 of Breakdown
“Gamó,” Nik groaned, the Greek beautiful and obscene in his mouth, arching up against Peter with sudden, maddening friction.
Peter fumbled with Nik’s fly, his erection straining against the too tight jeans, his hips jerking involuntarily as Peter freed it from his boxers, sticky with precum. Nik exhaled hard as Peter slicked the tip with spit-wet fingers.
“I need you inside me,” Peter whimpered, as Nik slid down his boxer-briefs, the rough fabric catching slightly and then giving over Peter’s engorged cock. Unconstrained now, Peter shifted until he was straddling Nik, opening himself, aching for Nik to fill him up.
Instead, Nik’s huge hand encircled Peter’s shaft. He stroked with deliberate concentration, teasing him, making Peter so hard it almost hurt. Peter bit his lip, not above begging. “Please.” The firm press of Nik’s cock resting idle against his ass was too much to bear.
Nik chuckled low, a rasp of barely contained hunger. “How can I say no to that?” Making indecent, unbroken eye contact with Peter, Nik covered his palm with lube, gripping and bathing his cock with a frenetic pump.
Gently pressing against the tightly ringed muscle, Nik held him close, waiting for Peter to relax into the sensation before guiding himself all the way in. Peter clenched his fists involuntarily, tearing out a handful of grass as Nik rocked hard into his prostate, losing himself to the blinding pleasure of Nik’s strong, familiar rhythm rising to meet him.
The way Nik knew every inch of his body.
The way Nik knew exactly how to make him cum.
Nik grunted, soft and purposeful, driving them closer to the edge, bucking Peter hard with every thrust. His powerful hand made several fierce strokes, took him to the cusp. Peter bit into the soft skin of his shoulder, holding on, his orgasm building in tandem with Nik’s, powerful and relentless and inevitable. Peter crested first, chest heaving, shoulders thrown back, perspiration streaming down the curve of his spine, every muscle tensing and collapsing as Nik finished in him with a hot, shuddering spurt.
Peter went boneless. Nik folded him tightly against his chest, the gentle scrub of his stubble welcome against Peter's sweat-soaked shoulder blade. Still breathing hard, Peter kissed the curve of Nik’s ear, nuzzling into the sweet scent of his curls.
“I love you,” Nik murmured, pressing the words into Peter’s skin, soft and indelible.
“I love you too, Nik.”
And, wrapped in Nik’s sure, solid embrace as the sun began to rise over the Santa Monica Bay, Peter made a promise to himself. No matter what happened tomorrow, he would make it back to Nik. They would get out of this okay. Both of them.
Interlude
Jordan
IF LIFE HAD TAUGHTJordan Halligan one thing, it was that there was a lot of safety in keeping quiet. He’d always been awkward, unsure of the right words for any given moment, and all opening his mouth had ever gotten him was trouble. Silence was low risk. There were a million incorrect things you could say, and any one of them could piss off the wrong person. You make a pass at the wrong homophobe, for example, and you better hope that there was a Peter Bauer hanging around the corner to prevent your head from getting caved in. He’d gotten that lucky once, and he didn’t feel like risking it again.
Besides, silence had taken him pretty far, way up into the ranks of the Bauer criminal organization. Not bad for a kid who had been a couple of days away from becoming a permanent hustler a few years ago. “You shut up, you do your job and good things are going to happen to you,” Liv had told him when she brought him in, and she hadn’t been wrong so far.
So when Liv Bauer didn’t feel like talking on the long ride back from the garage to her beautiful little seaside villa, Jordan didn’t take it personally. It wasn’t every day that your long-lost mother showed up during a knockdown, drag out fight with your twin brother in the middle of a crime war you were trying desperately to survive.
Silence wasn’t unusual for Liv these days. There was a lot on her mind. This had a different tenor, though. He knew that look on her face tonight. He’d seen it in the mirror at his lowest points, composure over top of a maelstrom. It was the kind of look that said if you dared to open your mouth to utter a syllable it would all collapse and you’d be sobbing in front of the people you needed respect from. Personally, Jordan didn’t care if Liv cried in front of him, but he could tell that she did so he let her sit there in safe, comfortable silence.
