Page 20 of Lovesick Gods (Lovesick #1)

Gasping into Mal’s shoulder as he caught his breath, Danny let out a beautiful, relieved exhale like that was everything he’d wanted.

Pulling his soiled hand away, he was careful not to get it on the comforter or on Mal, which would have been thoughtful if he didn’t accompany it with another bite to Mal’s neck.

Grimacing, Mal shivered at the mix of pleasure and pain, harsh but not too rough, just like how Danny fought.

As Danny pulled away, it dawned on Mal that he hadn’t actually seen Danny put on the condom.

He always made sure to witness that. It was just smart business.

Mal didn’t have regulars. Barely slept with anyone he could stand.

He always wore a condom and always watched his partner put one on if their positions were reversed.

Peering over his shoulder, Mal watched as Danny rolled the condom off . Sloppy. Always so sloppy with Danny. He had to be better. Had to get his head on straight with this kid and stop getting so easily caught up in his whirlwind.

But damn, had it been worth it tonight.

Catching his eye, Danny grinned roguishly and leapt off the bed. He made quick work of using the bathroom across the room—disposing of the condom, washing his hands—and came back with a skip in his step.

Mal rolled onto his back as Danny crawled onto the bed with a predatory gleam in his eyes—was he still hard? Or hard again ? Danny was going to be the death of Mal. But before he could reach him, Danny’s stomach rumbled loudly and he groaned as he fell forward onto his forearms.

“Hungry, Sparky?” Mal chuckled.

“Urg…starving. I didn’t finish dinner. I need at least five thousand calories a day—”

“Five thousand —”

“And I used up a lot of energy just now,” Danny snickered. He looked up at Mal, a little pale and glassy-eyed but still alert. “Hey…that Thai food?”

There he was—the awkward, adorable kid beneath the cowl. “Leftovers in the fridge. Help yourself. I might need a minute.”

“I bet you do,” Danny said and leaned forward on his hands and knees to kiss Mal, gently this time, a light peck to his lips. “Good though, right?”

With a few words and a tender kiss, Danny summed up all the reasons why Mal trusted him enough to even entertain what they were doing. “Good. Can’t wait to pay you back for it.”

Another low giggle which, if Mal wasn’t so thoroughly spent, might have rekindled his desires right then and there.

Slithering from the bed, Danny redressed and left Mal to fend for himself. After a few moments, Mal heard the sounds of him rummaging in the kitchen.

Spreading out on the bed, Mal took a few slow breaths to still his pulse.

His adrenaline and endorphins were sky-high.

Only a good heist, a good fight, ever made him feel this blissful.

Especially when those things included Danny.

This added dimension to their relationship was a solid win.

Mal would enjoy taking Danny apart next time as payback.

Slowly, he swung his legs off the bed and made his way to the bathroom to clean up.

When he padded down the stairs a few minutes later, barefoot and comfortably dressed in grey cotton sleep pants and a long-sleeved navy T-shirt, Danny was situated on a stool at the kitchen island, digging into several of the remaining containers of leftovers.

Mal had barely touched them last night. He noticed that the infamous shoes were now placed at the door where they belonged. Smart kid.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure, Sparky? Thought you couldn’t meet until tomorrow night.”

Facing Mal somewhat sideways from the end of the island, Danny nearly dropped his fork as he shoveled noodles into his mouth.

He finished swallowing his current bite, but his eyes darted to the countertop before he replied.

A shadow of something fierce and angry flashed across his face, and the smile he forced when he looked up again didn’t fool Mal for a second.

“Plans changed. Needed a break. You sounded like a really good bad idea.”

Mal smirked. Danny obviously wasn’t interested in divulging more. Fair enough. “That, I can promise you, will always be true.”

With a grin, Danny dug into another bite of noodles, then offered the container to Mal.

“I’m good, thanks. But tell me,” he crossed to his liquor cabinet, “this going to be an ongoing occurrence?”

“Me eating your leftovers?” Danny asked with a tease at the corners of his lips and a glance down Mal’s body. “Or fucking you better than anyone else you’ve ever been with?”

A shock of desire stirred in Mal’s belly as he pulled down his whiskey bottle and poured himself two liberal fingers; this version of Danny he definitely wanted to see more of. “That’s pretty bold for someone barely old enough to buy me a drink.”

“Fuck you, I’m twenty-eight. And you’re what, thirty-five?”

Thirty-seven. Maybe Danny hadn’t delved that deeply into Mal’s police records. Turning to face him without answering, Mal took a sip from his drink.

“Besides, I thought we had some promises to keep.” Danny raised an eyebrow at him and popped an egg roll into his mouth obscenely.

Mal eyed Danny sitting there in just jeans and a T-shirt stretching across his finely-toned chest. Those promises would be worth every risk now that he’d gotten a taste, but he had to ask, “What happens the next time I pull a heist?”

“Admitting you’re planning one?”

“Cute. But you can’t con me as well as you think you can. You overheard me and Lucy at Pronto. Well played with the spilled drink, Sparky, but you had a plan in mind from the start, didn’t you?”

Danny looked momentarily flustered. Setting his fork down, he summoned that cryptic, playful expression that made Mal want to bend him over the countertop, no matter how spent he was.

“Maybe. As for your next heist, we have an agreement, don’t we?

Same rules apply. If I find out or get called in, I’ll try to stop you, but I won’t turn you over to the police as long as you don’t kill anyone, don’t hurt any innocents, and don’t tell anyone my identity.

Deal? There’s no reason that should interfere with this. ”

Huh. Mal hadn’t expected it to be that easy.

But then maybe Danny wasn’t thinking this through.

He had such a strong streak of good in him, he’d likely have a harder time separating business from pleasure than he expected.

“Deal,” Mal said anyway. He’d offered as much as he planned to about his upcoming score, and even if it all blew up in his face, he still had eighteen days to enjoy the ride.

Danny finished off the last of one of the containers.

He’d already finished one before Mal got downstairs.

Plucking up another egg roll instead of the third container, he ogled Mal leaning back against the counter with his ankles crossed, one hand on his arm as he sipped his whiskey.

“I like the suits. Like your leather. Like this too. Guess you just look good in everything, Ice Man. And nothing.”

Mal flicked his tongue along the rim of his glass. Danny understood all right—the game never stopped. “No mention of the duster, Sparky? I’m insulted.”

“Your costume overall is…cute.” Danny tilted his head. Ha—cute, he says . “But seeing you out of it, it’s hard to enjoy something that keeps you so fully covered, other than your arms. Maybe you could lose the duster, try things in just that skin-tight bodysuit for a while.”

“Like you? I don’t know, you think Andre would give me a discount on a redesign?”

Danny’s smile dropped, as if hearing the CSI’s name spoiled his dinner.

The first time he’d spouted the names of his partners during a fight, Mal had thoroughly investigated who they might be.

It wasn’t difficult to pinpoint the OCPD medical examiner and a CSI with those names.

Now that Mal also knew Danny’s name, sometimes he looked into what they were all doing.

It was in his best interest to keep tabs on the enemy, after all.

Pushing the last container away from him, Danny hopped off the stool. “I should go.”

Mal stood up straight to follow him. Whatever had brought Danny here tonight had definitely involved Andre Vaughn, that much was certain.

Danny really needed to work on not being so transparent.

“So soon? You haven’t eaten me out of house and home yet.

A quick fuck and half a meal? Didn’t realize you were such a cheap date.

” He set his drink down on the counter as he followed Danny to the door.

His comment prompted that lovely ‘I hate how much I like you’ smile that Mal always managed to goad out of Danny. “Fuck you,” he said again—and that should not have been as hot as it was, hearing Zeus curse so casually.

Cocking his head, Mal licked his lower lip. “Yes. You did. And I’m looking forward to round two.”

Danny chuckled as he finished putting on his shoes and stepped into Mal’s space, close enough that most people would have backed up a step. Mal didn’t. “And three and four and…however much higher you can count.”

“I can count pretty high.” In truth, Mal could win most games of pool by doing geometry in his head, calculating force and angles with adept precision. But Danny didn’t need to know that.

“I’ll call you.” Danny leaned closer.

“Maybe I’ll call you.”

“Maybe I’ll answer,” Danny bantered back. Then he kissed Mal, all heat and power and promise, with a gentle tug at Mal’s bottom lip with his teeth. “Be seeing you, Ice Man,” he said as he backed toward the door.

Oh, Mal could definitely get used to this, for however long it lasted.

?

Danny considered for all of two seconds whether or not he should head back to the morgue. He was still too fired up, too buzzed on the thrill of sex and having Cho completely under his thrall. He knew he’d have to apologize to Andre eventually, but he didn’t want to deal with that now.

Looking at his phone, he saw that he had four missed calls from his friend. If there was a real emergency, Andre would have left a message. Right now, Danny just wanted to go home, put on something warm since he’d left his jacket at the morgue, and think about what his next play would be with Cho.

The thief was making it too easy. Danny had all of the control and Cho wasn’t even making an attempt to take it back.

Not in any way that would work. Danny would let the man lead next time—he looked forward to it—but by then he’d already have Cho so twisted up in wanting him, Danny would still have the power no matter what they did in the bedroom.

He’d make it so good, be so amazing to the man, Cho wouldn’t be able to imagine life without him.

No shred of guilt wavered in Danny’s gut concerning what he was doing.

What else could he feel for Cho other than hatred?

The illusive Prometheus was even planning to steal something again, couldn’t stop himself, always just a criminal at his core, a villain .

Cho felt no remorse, so why should Danny?

What more proof did Danny need that he would never, ever change?

Danny did hate him, and giving him everything he wanted only to take it away was going to feel so gratifying. Finally, Danny had the power Thanatos had taken from him when he killed his mother and Rick, terrorized the city for months, and pushed Danny so far past the breaking point that he’d…

No. This time Danny was the puppet master and he’d take his revenge on Cho for abandoning him that night. It wasn’t like he didn’t deserve it.