Page 19 of Play Dirty

By the time he found his way through the packed dance floor, Madi and the car were gone.

“Do you need a cab, sir?” a young man at the front of the club asked in Portuguese, sweeping his hand toward his car.

Az sighed, shaking his head. Madi was going to be the death of him. “Yes, it seems I do.”

8

Madigan

Madigan paced the living room of the villa, the wood floors cool under the soles of his feet. Even they felt like they were on fire. He unbuttoned his shirt, tossed it onto the coffee table, then ran his fingers under his nose. Azrael. Salt and spice. This was un-fucking-sustainable. Madigan had made a lot of poor judgment calls in his life, but shacking up with Azrael—no, agreeing to work with him in the first place—might earn a spot in his top five.

He should be going over their intel point by point, formulating, revising, and then re-revising their next steps. Instead, he was watching the door like a goddamn forgotten housewife, purposefully ignoring the irony of his own situation. He’d been the one to walk away in the club after all, hellbent on advancing their ridiculous—and addictive—game one more step. And who was suffering for it? Him. If Azrael fucked that other man, well, it was Madigan’s own damn fault.

He strode out onto the pool deck and stripped the rest of his clothing off carelessly before standing at the edge of the pool. The words Azrael had spoken to him in the club wrapped around his mind and slithered over his skin, seductive and warm. Taunting.“Is it not enough I let you fuck me when nobody else can or that I surrender my flesh to your blade?”

At the sound of a car door closing beyond the high wall that enclosed the pool, Madigan cocked his head and listened to the sound of honking horns, the tinny ping of a bicycle bell, and behind that, the low, indecipherable rumble of voices.

A prickle of awareness danced up his spine and spread like a hand over the back of his neck. The front door of the villa opened and shut, and the relief Madigan felt was so unbearably foreign, it lodged, paradoxically, like a fist in his gut.

He turned to look over his shoulder, watching Az’s progress through the villa’s big glass windows, the sleek prowl, the economy of motion. Everything about the man put Madigan on the very edge. It was thrilling. Terrifying. Maybe a little sick.

Azrael paused on the threshold, resting his arm against it. “Are you just going to stand there on the edge or are you getting in?”

“Still debating.” Madigan stared down at the glassy surface of the pool, watching the reflection of the lights inside shift over it with the slow ripples of the water. Az’s footsteps were muted, but his fingers on Madigan’s back felt like fire. His touch rolled over Madi’s skin untamed and gathering heat. Madigan’s cock bobbed stiffly in the air between them when he turned to face the other man.

“That was rude of you. In the club.” Az stroked the length of Madigan’s cock with his fingertips, lifting his dark gaze to meet Madigan’s. Goddamn, the man was honey-drenched sin. “This is the pattern you want to continue between us? Tit for tat?” Azrael angled his chin and spit on Madigan’s shaft before wrapping it in his fist.

Madigan bit back a groan for the silky, tantalizing glide of the other man’s palm over him. “It’s always done the trick,” he bit out, one hand fisting the fabric at Az’s shoulder, steadying himself as Az stroked harder.

“Don’t want to try something different?”

“If it ain’t broke, why fi—”

Az’s teeth scraped over his chin, then his lower lip, forcing Madigan’s mouth open to the wet thrust of the other man’s tongue. With a growl, Madigan sucked on it wantonly, then forced himself to break the kiss with a backward step.

“Cool off, then we’ll talk more.” Az planted his palm in the center of Madigan’s chest and pushed him off balance before Madi could swat him away. Cold water lashed against his skin and then enveloped him completely as he tumbled into the pool. He came up sputtering and slicked his hair back from his face, the sounds of Az’s laughter surrounding him, though not as irritating as he wished it was.

Azrael pulled his shirt off and was opening the button on his jeans when Madigan managed to hook an arm around the backs of his calves and yank him forward. Az bowed into a graceful, shallow dive just as he hit the water with a splash.

He was already halfway to Madigan when he surfaced and pulled him in a headlock, catching Madigan off-guard when he found his arm twisted behind his back. Madigan had just a second to suck in a breath before Az forced his head under. Water rushed into Madigan’s ears as Az twisted his arm higher, pain searing through his bicep and shoulder. Managing to catch Az’s waistband with his free hand, Madigan gave himself enough leverage to drive his knee into the man’s groin. He felt him flinch, and then he was ripped to the surface again, gulping air that suffused his lungs suddenly and made him damn near dizzy.

“Cut it the fuck out,” he bit out.

Azrael cradled the back of Madigan’s neck, their faces hovering inches apart. Water dappled his cheeks, and there was an alluring wet sheen to his lips. The darkness of his eyes was as disorienting to Madigan as being shoved into the pool.

“You can’t concentrate.” Az smiled as he slid his hand down Madigan’s spine to clutch his asscheek, then pulled Madigan’s hand to his cock. “You’re all worked up.” Madigan started to protest that observation but hissed out instead as Az licked the side of his neck and sucked his pulse point until he felt the sting of blood rising to the surface. “Let me put you out of your misery.” Az wedged a finger between Madigan’s cheeks and glided over his hole.

“Permanently or temporarily?”

Az chuckled softly and crooned something in that Madigan didn’t fully catch. He didn’t need to, though. He got the gist.

Madigan let Azrael hoist him onto the edge of the pool then spread his thighs and suck his cock into his mouth. Crying out in frustration and pleasure, he arched into the slick warmth, unable to resist a few thrusts before he curled forward. “Get up here,” he growled, grabbing Az’s waistband and helping yank him out of the water onto the deck.

They wrestled Az’s soaked jeans off, and Az pushed Madi onto his back and straddled him. Reaching behind himself, he trapped Madi’s cock between the furrow of his cheeks with the flat of his palm, gliding up and down until Madigan thought he’d go out of his mind with the intensity of the friction and the pleasure shuddering through him.

“Do you need me to repeat what I said in the club? I will.” Azrael groaned, hips jerking, as Madigan rested one hand on the top of his thigh and fisted his cock with the other, teasing over Az’s thick crown.

Madigan shook his head. He didn’t need to hear it again. He hadn’t wanted to hear those kinds of words from Az in the first place. They were insidious, seeping beneath his skin and rushing hot through his bloodstream, reminding him how close he’d been to pulling the trigger earlier when Azrael was on the roof, how taut every muscle in his body had been and how every breath he’d drawn had been shallow and insufficient until Az was back on his side of the fence.