Page 50 of Missing Pieces (Brantley Walker: Off the Books #12)

Brantley let Reese go into the house first while he walked back and forth in front of the house to cool down a bit. They’d tackled five miles in record time, and he was feeling it.

Of course, Reese looked as though he’d only run a mile. Walking. Clearly that eating healthy thing had some merit.

“I’m gonna shower,” Reese called, leaving the front door open.

Taking that as an invitation, Brantley got with the program. He made his way down the hallway to their bedroom, discarding clothing as he went. By the time he reached the bathroom, he was naked, and the room was filling with steam while Reese stood beneath the spray.

“I thought you needed a minute,” Reese said, grinning as Brantley stepped in with him.

“When my husband’s in the shower, eager to do me, I always feel instantly better.”

Reese huffed a laugh. “Is that what I’m eager for? To do you?”

Brantley pushed Reese back so they were both beneath the spray. He reached around and turned down the heat, figuring they would be generating plenty of their own soon enough.

“I want you inside me,” Brantley told him, sliding his hands up Reese’s back.

Reese’s hands began to roam, causing goosebumps to form on Brantley’s flesh. He loved when Reese touched him.

“How do you want it?” Reese asked, his voice rougher than before.

“Slow,” he said, dragging out the word. He lowered his voice and spoke right in Reese’s ear. “I want you to slide your dick inside me nice and slow, then I want you to take your time.”

Reese shuddered in his arms, causing Brantley to grin.

“Do you think you can do that?”

Reese’s response came with a gentle push against Brantley’s chest.

Laughing, Brantley turned away from him, planting both palms on the tiled wall. He glanced over his shoulder, watching as Reese fumbled with the lube. He could tell that Reese’s cheeks were pink, and he figured it had more to do with his dirty talk than the water temperature.

“Slow, you say?” Reese asked, stepping up behind him.

Brantley took a few steps back so he could bend over more, offering himself up to his husband. He moaned softly when Reese teased his hole with his fingers.

“Fuck,” he hissed, shifting his hips, pushing against those fingers penetrating him.

“Relax,” Reese urged, scissoring his fingers inside him. “Let me in.”

He did, accepting the intrusion, eager for Reese to drive his cock inside him.

“Fuck me, Reese,” Brantley pleaded, dropping his head, savoring the pleasure.

Without a word, Reese drove two fingers in deep and hard seconds before he pulled out and pushed his cock inside him. Air rushed out of his lungs as pleasure consumed him. His knees went weak, but he managed to shore them up when Reese began sliding out.

In. Out.

Slow.

“Is this what you want?” Reese’s voice was thready.

“Fucking perfect,” he hissed, loving the way Reese’s fingertips dug into his hips as though he was trying to hold himself back.

Their grunts and moans echoed alongside the water raining down.

“I love when you’re inside me, Reese,” he said, closing his eyes, his body humming with the electricity that arced whenever Reese was fucking him.

Reese’s hand shifted from his hip to his shoulder. He rocked into him, a little faster, just as deep. When his pace quickened even more, Brantley reached down, stroked his cock, preparing to come at the same time Reese did.

“Oh, yeah,” he urged. “Harder, baby. Fuck me like you mean it.”

That triggered Reese’s urgency because he began fucking him deep and hard, his grunts louder, his grip on Brantley’s shoulder firmer.

Brantley grunted, trying to form words, but the pleasure was too intense. He gave himself over, holding off for as long as he could.

“Reese … fuck … baby … coming!”

Reese slammed into him hard, a throaty roar bouncing off the tile as he came deep inside him.

Brantley sighed, content and sated. He dropped his head, smiling.

Damn fine way to start the day.

Twenty minutes later, Brantley strolled into the kitchen to find Reese working at the stove, the smell of bacon permeating the entire room.

“Why do you have a smile on your face?” Reese asked, sparing a quick glance his way.

Unable to stop the grin from amping up a wattage or two, Brantley continued toward his husband.

“Why wouldn’t I have a smile on my face?” he countered. “We’re finally back to our routine.”

For the first time in what felt like years, they were able to wake up, go for a run, shower together, and now they were about to have breakfast together. Toss in the mind-blowing sex under the spray of the water, and Brantley couldn’t help but smile.

“I guess we are, huh?”

“Finally.”

Reese chuckled. “This comin’ from the man who used to boycott routine.”

“That was before you,” he told Reese as he stepped up behind him and kissed the back of his neck.

Reese leaned into him briefly before continuing to fry bacon in the pan.

“What’re you makin’ with that bacon?” He chuckled when he realized it rhymed.

“Thought we’d do bacon and egg sandwiches.”

“As long as you don’t put avocado on mine.” The one time Reese had snuck some on his sandwich, it had taken Brantley forever to wash that taste out of his mouth.

“I won’t. Promise.”

Brantley poured two cups of coffee and brought them to the island. He took a seat and watched Reese work.

“I got a text from Baz this mornin’,” Reese said, not looking back.

“And?”

“The team wants to meet with us this mornin’.”

Shit. Brantley had feared they would. In fact, he’d feared an all-out boycott after yesterday’s meeting. He could only imagine what they were thinking.

“They’re not all gonna quit, are they?”

This time Reese peered back at him, his eyebrows lowered. “Of course not. Why would they?”

“We dumped a lot on them yesterday.”

“We did, but they’re a tough bunch.”

Brantley didn’t disagree. And he didn’t doubt they would be on board.

He needed to give some thought to how they should lay it out.

He wanted to utilize the entire team as best he could in order to get this resolved quickly.

He didn’t know how long Simon’s process took, but Brantley wanted to get this done and over as soon as possible.

He let his thoughts wander to how he would present the information while Reese continued to cook. It wasn’t until a plate was set in front of him that he brought his thoughts back to the moment.

“Where were you just now?” Reese asked, settling onto the stool beside him.

Exhaling a sigh, Brantley resigned himself to having this discussion. “I need to give Travis an update. I promised him I would.”

“What exactly can you tell him? We don’t have any leads. Hell, we’re not even sure Meredith Prescott is where Decker left her. There’s a good chance she ran after they talked. If she thought someone might be on to her, it would make sense.”

Brantley had thought the same thing. It was why he wasn’t on a plane to New York to bring her back. Until they had a confirmation that she was there, he wasn’t going to put too much effort into it. If he had to guess, Decker had already warned her that they knew where she was.

He glanced at the sandwich on his plate and, for the first time, he ignored it. He was suddenly not hungry.

Reese shifted closer. “We’re gonna figure this out. One way or the other. We’ll outline what we need to do to find Meredith Prescott, and I have to believe that everything else will work out the way it’s meant to.”

“What about the FBI agents that are in town? Who was Decker referring to?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

Brantley took a deep breath. “Okay. We’ll meet with the team, get their input. From there, we’ll decide how to approach Travis and Gage. And we have to keep them updated.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Reese said as his phone chimed on the counter. He pulled it over, peered down at the screen. “That’s Atticus. He’s headin’ over to Walker Demo to talk to Ethan.”

Brantley frowned. “About?”

“They’re tryin’ to figure out what type of equipment would be needed to move a bronze statue.”

“It weighs what? About a thousand pounds?”

Reese shrugged one shoulder. “Roughly fifteen hundred.”

“You sound certain about that. Did you research it?”

Another shrug. “I might’ve spent a few minutes lookin’ into it.”

“Leave it to Atticus. Sounds like he’s on the right track. I do need him to close that case ASAP, though. As much as I want to help Callie and Rose, we’re gonna need Atticus and Slade front and center on this.”

“I’ll let Darius know so he can stay on top of it.”

Brantley nodded, reminding himself that Darius was in charge because Baz was on paternity leave.

He hated that he was down two of their top people, but it was for the best possible reason, so he wouldn’t bring it up.

Baz and JJ deserved this time, and he would not interfere, no matter how much their expertise would be missed.

“What time are we meeting with the team?” he asked before downing what was left of his coffee.

Reese stood, grabbing their plates. “I’ll find out. I’d say ten should be good. I’ll talk to Z, see if they can be here.”

“Decker, too.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

He understood Reese’s reluctance, and Brantley couldn’t blame him for asking.

After all, Brantley could hardly be in the same room with Decker and not want to put his fist through the man’s face.

Everything about this situation was fucked up, the least of which was the fact Meredith Prescott took advantage of a kid.

Just the thought of her and fourteen-year-old Decker together made his stomach churn violently.

However, Brantley knew he had to put that aside if they were going to find out what happened to Meredith. More importantly, if they were going to identify this so-called collusion that Holt was convinced was taking place.

“We have to be at HQ by ten,” Atticus told Slade as he steered the truck toward Walker Demolition. “Darius just texted.”

Slade flipped on the blinker. “I’m sure someone’ll catch us up if we can’t get there in time.”