Cut and Run 3 - Fish and Chips by Madeleine Urban ; Abigail Roux Read Free Book Online

Zane offered happily, begging for it, and the thought nearly drove Zane crazy. He snapped his hips again, driving into Ty hard and not slowing this time. Zane huffed for breath and reached around Ty to wrap his slicked hand around Ty’s cock, pumping it with the rhythm of the pummeling.
    Ty curled in on himself, his body taut and incredibly tight, moaning helplessly as he spilled over Zane’s fingers. Zane choked for a breath and cried out hoarsely as Ty’s body clenched around him. The sounds Ty made when Zane fucked him, desperate and needy and uninhibited, were always too much for Zane. His control snapped and he pushed in hard once, twice, countless more times as he came hard and fast, using and abusing Ty’s willing body before collapsing onto Ty’s back with an aching groan.
    It was a long minute before Zane found the will to carefully pull out of Ty and drop to lie beside him on his back. He was still sucking in deep breaths when he turned his head to look at Ty closely.
    Ty smirked at him as he lay unmoving, his hazel eyes dancing merrily. “Good?” he asked, his usual teasing tone now back in his voice.
    Zane stared at him as his pulse still throbbed. “Yeah,” he agreed. “That was… unusual.”
    Ty’s lips twitched in amusement, and he smiled wider. “Wanted to see if I could pull off the sex kitten vibe,” he explained blithely as he pushed himself from his belly onto his elbows. “Turns out I can!”
    “Great,” Zane muttered, rubbing at his eyes. “We are supposed to leave the cabin, you know.”
    “Just getting into character,” Ty said with a half shrug of his shoulder. Then, in a voice eerily like the man Zane had seen behind the glass today, complete with the British accent, he said, “You must have had fun; you missed a chance for a cat joke. Love the earring, by the way.”
    The accent surprised Zane. He knew from Ty’s dossier that his partner was an accomplished mimic. He could pull off a number of accents and varying pitches and tenors, and he was competent, if not fluent, in several languages, Farsi and French among them. Several times since being moved to Baltimore, Zane had witnessed one of their colleagues come to Ty and request he make a phone call or recording in a particular accent for a case they were working.
    Zane had just never had occasion to see him — hear him — in action. This case would be interesting for that aspect alone, to see if Ty could pull off the British accent for an extended length of time.
    Zane huffed his annoyance and leaned away as Ty tried to poke at the ruby earring. “Trust me, I’ve got enough holes in my body. I wasn’t too thrilled about this one. But I guess it’s better than another bullet hole.”
    Ty reached out to run his finger down Zane’s cheek, one eyebrow raised in amusement. “It’s too shiny not to mess with. You do realize I’m going to yank it at some point just to see you scream.”
    Zane narrowed his eyes. “Try it and I’ll yank on something sensitive of yours, jerk,” he said with a light smack to Ty’s flank.
    Ty’s palm flattened against Zane’s cheek, and he scooted closer, pressing his nose to Zane’s with an impish grin. Zane harrumphed quietly at the gesture. Ty was rarely playful; it was both fun and exasperating to see him this way. He ran his fingers through Ty’s now-blond hair. “Not too sure what I think about this,” he said with a slight frown. It didn’t look right at all, and he knew, despite what he just said, that he’d already decided he didn’t like it.
    Ty grunted and pulled his head back, losing the playfulness. “Yeah, well don’t get used to it. As soon as this shit’s over, I’m buzzing it all off,” he muttered as he turned his face away and pressed his nose into the pillow. He rolled and pushed his back against Zane as he burrowed under the pillow. He was like a very large puppy trying to take over a very small bed.
    Zane shifted to his side and slid his arms around him,