Page 29 of Play Dirty

Sometime later, after they’d showered and eaten their forgotten dinner, when they were far too cozy under the covers, Madi craned his head to glimpse the marks Az had carved into his shoulder. “Do you intend on finishing your little art project?”

Az shook his head, his fingers catching in the springy hair of Madi’s lower belly. “Not tonight. You’ve worn me out.”

Madi laughed, the sound almost shocking in the silence. “Lies. You’ve got another round or two left in you.”

Az shook his head. “Hah, unlike you,motek, I’ve been working. My hand has been my only companion since our last meeting.”

Why the fuck had he shared that bit of information?

Madi was silent for a beat, then cleared his throat. “There hasn’t been anybody else for me either.”

“You don’t owe me explanations,” Az said, despite the dizzying relief that poured through him.

“I’m not saying it because I owe you anything,” Madi started before going quiet again. After a long pause, he continued. “There was nobody before you got to Brazil either. I was just trying to make you jealous.”

“Why?”

Madigan blew out a long breath. “I don’t really know. Because it mattered. Because you matter, and I don’t know how to process that.”

“I wish you had simply said something back in Rio,” Az admitted. Why were they discussing this now? Az didn’t want to feel relieved that Madi had been only with him. He couldn’t. Az wished he could go back to the beginning of the evening when they were both furious and distrustful of each other. It would have made what came next so much easier.

“You weren’t exactly being honest in Rio, either. You could have said you had feelings for me. You could’ve trusted me with your plan from the beginning, before I killed our first target. Maybe then we could’ve gotten DiMarco and Bennington both.”

“You didn’t trust me back then, and I didn’t trust you.” Az rolled away, opening the drawer beside the bed.

“Well, I trust you now,” Madi said.

“I know.” Az rolled back over, giving Madi a kiss that lingered, trying to remember everything, the softness of his lips, the burn of his scruff, the feel of his hip digging into Az’s.

The syringe in his hand pierced Madi’s muscle with such precision that he didn’t even seem to realize Az had stabbed him until he pushed down on the plunger, the liquid inside the syringe burning on entry.

Madi’s hand closed around Az’s throat, but the medication’s effect was immediate.

“I’m sorry,motek,” Az whispered just before the drugs sucked Madi under. “I’m truly sorry.”

He meant it. God forgive him. He meant it.

12

Madigan

“Drink, Madigan.” Az’s accent melted over him, the soothing tone at odds with the pounding in Madigan’s head as he tried to focus. “You need the hydration.”

The dim yellow lights above Madigan had fuzzy golden halos, and Az’s face was a blurred impression of tawny hues. His arms hung limply at his sides, leaden, and the edge of his vision was like a seventies soft focus camera lens. He could hardly see a damn thing. When he tried to speak, instead of words coming out, cool liquid flowed in.

He sputtered, then got control of his throat and began to guzzle. Fuck, that was good. His mouth was parched, his tongue as heavy as the rest of him. He’d been…... Whathadhe been doing?

Another slow blink, like sandpaper scraping over his eyeballs. The water vanished, and Madigan hissed at a sudden sting to the inside of his arm. He was about to ask why the hell Az had pinched him when the world rushed toward him in blinding technicolor. His heart rate shot from a sluggish gait to a full-blown gallop in a span of nanoseconds.

“Shit. I might’ve overshot the dosage a little there.”

Madigan blinked rapidly, taking in the sudden influx of sensory information. Grey cement walls. Cement floor, cool on his feet. Hisbarefeet. Goosebumps. No shirt. A rattle when he shifted. Chains. Floor drain.

A kill room.

Madigan lurched toward Azrael with a feral snarl, his body flushed with adrenaline and tight with raw power waiting to be unleashed thanks to whatever Az had pumped into his veins.

The shackles at his ankles and wrists immediately jerked him backward on his ass across the stone floor. He landed on his side, biting out a curse as his head cracked against the legs of the chair he’d been slumped in seconds ago.