Page 35 of Devil's Hour
“Take that, fucker,” Royce said, grinning when he imagined Felix’s irritation.
The parole officers, Jasmine Peppers and Miguel Esposito, were curious as hell about why the detectives were interested in Bennett, Pullman, and Grange, but they didn’t balk on assisting them when Royce and Sawyer declined to answer their questions. Peppers and Esposito told them where the guys lived, worked, and played. Esposito was the PO for Bennett and Grange while Pepper wrangled Pullman. They said each of the parolees had spotless employment records and were never late for their check-ins. By all accounts, they were acclimating to life outside of prison well. Both POs were seasoned vets and changed up their schedule for random home and work visits to stay unpredictable, which made it harder for the men to fool them. Esposito gave them Grange’s and Bennett’s work schedules, and Peppers placed a call to Pullman’s supervisor to find out where his painting crew was working that day. If Royce or Sawyer called the man, he could’ve tipped Pullman off that the cops were looking for him, but Peppers routinely called to find out his location. If Pullman’s boss gave him a heads-up, it worked in their favor and guaranteed he’d be on the job that afternoon.
To keep Felix off their backs, Royce called Chen and asked him to bring them a different car from the motor pool, a tricked-out black Chevy Tahoe with tinted windows. It was a hybrid SUV specifically designed for law enforcement. Ky didn’t ask questions, even though Royce knew he was curious as hell about their hushed investigation. If required to expand the task force, Ky would be his first choice.
“This car is fucking badass,” Royce said, giving it gas as he pulled out of the parking lot. “These dark windows will help us thwart Fleabag.”
“Thwart?” Sawyer asked.
Royce snorted. “I know words, GB. I went to college and everything.”
Sawyer reached over and placed his hand on the back of Royce’s neck, squeezing gently before releasing him. “I didn’t mean to imply you aren’t smart or don’t have an expansive vocabulary; it just reminded me of one of my audiobooks, is all.”
“Yeah?” Royce asked, his voice sounding deep and as thick as molasses. “I have learned a lot from listening to your books.” He even kept a list of things he wanted to try on his phone.
“Knock it off,” Sawyer said, shaking his head. “Stop usingthatvoice when we’re at work.” Reaching between his legs, Sawyer adjusted himself. “You make me want to test out the effectiveness of the dark tint.”
“You know, testing the suspension wouldn’t be a bad idea either,” Royce added. “We never know the terrain we’ll find ourselves in.” He was thinking about the Benson-Wembley case when they, along with dozens of others, performed a two-hundred-mile search that included remote spots you could only access on dirt roads, and there were some stretches you could barely classify as cow paths leading to swamps and marshes.
“You tempt me in ways no other human ever has,” Sawyer said huskily.
“You’ve never been tempted to have a nooner?”
“Not in a police-issued vehicle in public where anyone could come across us, and never without regard for consequence.” Sawyer swallowed hard. “The thing is, you could pull over in that grocery parking lot and bend me over the backseat before it even registered what we were doing. Even then, the only thing I’d regret is not feeling you pump your cum inside me. I’m annoyed by the latex barrier between us and want it gone. What do you think about us getting tested?”
Royce jerked his head to look at Sawyer. “Really?”
“Watch out,” Sawyer yelled.
Returning his attention to the road, Royce slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting a Prius that had stopped suddenly in front of him. “Fuck! You choose now to discuss us fucking bareback?”
Sawyer laughed, seeming to love the power he had over him. Royce got the last laugh when he checked the side mirrors, noted the gap in traffic, and whipped the SUV into the other lane. He turned into the same grocery store parking lot Sawyer had just pointed to as a potential fuck zone. “Um…”
Royce parked in the rear of the parking lot. “Not feeling so bold now, huh?” Sawyer just blinked so Royce continued. He held up one finger. “I would love nothing more than feeling your ass clench my bare cock when I’m fucking you.” Two fingers. “I want you to pump me full of cum too.” Three fingers. “Tell me when and where I need to get tested.” Four fingers. “I’m not disrespecting what we have by bending you over anything when there’s a chance for someone else to watch. No fucking way, asshole.” Five fingers. “Keep an eye out for Bennett.”
“Huh?” Sawyer said, looking and sounding adorably dazed.
“This is the grocery store where John Bennett works. According to Esposito, he bags groceries, retrieves shopping carts, scrubs the bathrooms, and cleans spills in the aisles.” A mighty fall from a bank manager. “He’s currently on duty, the cart corral is full, and it’s only a matter of time before he comes out to get them.”
Sawyer swallowed hard and looked out the windshield. “They’ll have more than one bagger working. Maybe we should go in and talk to him.”
Royce shook his head, even though he was anxious because of the ticking clock. “I don’t want to make things harder for him if he’s not our guy. His supervisor won’t like cops showing up and asking him questions.”
“Good point.”
“Yeah, well, some people do change after serving time.” It didn’t happen often, but sometimes people took their second chance and ran with it. Royce refused to fuck that up without cause. He pinned Sawyer with a firm look that only made Sawyer grin. “Keep your grabby hands and filthy mouth to yourself and your dirty mind on the job.” Royce looked at his watch. “Ninety minutes until noon.” Not that he expected to solve the case in that short amount of time.
“Yes, Sarge,” Sawyer said, saluting him. “You bring out sides of me I didn’t know existed.”
As much as Royce loved hearing him say that, he also feared it. Sawyer was the definition of a control freak—everything in its place. Royce was messy, and his arrival into Sawyer’s life had been one upheaval after the other. He didn’t want Sawyer to resent him because of the chaos that always seemed to surround him. Right now, things were new and exciting. They craved each other and couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. This level of intensity couldn’t be maintained for long, right? What then? Royce’s fingers clung tighter to the fictional ledge, unwilling to trust the fall yet.
“And I freaking love it,” Sawyer said as if he read Royce’s mind. He risked looking at him and saw only sincerity in Sawyer’s dark eyes. “Okay, maybe you need to turn down your fuck-me pheromones before the chief busts us down to reading meters like she threatened.” They both knew Ellen Rigby wasn’t the kind of person who issued idle threats; she didn’t speak just to hear her voice.
Royce gave him a cocky grin. “I can try, asshole, but I make no promises.”
They exchanged heated smiles, then Sawyer turned his attention to studying the man’s face in the picture. “The past ten years in prison have not been kind to John Bennett.” He handed the paper to Royce. With snowy white hair, deeply etched wrinkles, and saggy jowls, Bennett looked sixty-eight instead of forty-eight.
“I don’t know anyone who’s come out looking better after visiting Club Fed.”