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

noting how his fingers caught on the bare flesh of Ty’s chest. He hadn’t noticed it when he’d been focused on fucking Ty’s brains out. “Good,” he murmured in agreement, happy to settle down and hold him close. As his palm cupped Ty’s shoulder, Zane remembered the missing tattoo. He was almost afraid to ask. “How’d they get rid of the bulldog?”
    Ty grunted and raised his head, pushing the pillow aside as he rolled in Zane’s arms and tossed a leg over his hip. He rotated his shoulder forward to inspect his bicep. “Some sort of synthetic cover-up. Like movie makeup. They said it should be okay for about a week. And they taught me how to do it in case something happens to it.” He patted his arm consolingly. “Poor puppy.”
    Zane laughed softly, but Ty didn’t seem to notice.
    “I’m not sure what was more unpleasant. The waxing, the bleaching, or the manicure,” he told Zane in a disgruntled voice. He laid his head back down. “They used things on my fingers I haven’t seen since Afghanistan,” he muttered thoughtfully as he slid his arm under Zane’s and then looked at his fingertips, tangling their limbs together further. “And holy shit, did you get a massage? Brunnhilde went a little overboard with the deep tissue thing. My shoulders are killing me.”
    The word “Afghanistan” caught Zane’s attention, but the mention of muscles hurting almost diverted it. Yeah, now that he thought about it, he was a little achy. The masseuse had told him he would be. But he’d also just done all the work in their little romp. “Yeah, I’m a little sore,” he said quietly, thinking about how little he knew of Ty’s past, especially things like tours in hostile Middle Eastern countries, a Marine Recon team being a family, and why he spoke Farsi like a native.
    “I feel like I got picked up by a pterodactyl,” Ty muttered. He either didn’t realize his slip or was thankful Zane had ignored it. Either way, he was silent for a long time, looking at Zane with a slight smile. Finally, he took Zane’s hand and kissed the tips of his fingers before rolling to his back.
    Zane remained pressed against his side, settling his free hand on Ty’s belly. “I don’t see any bite marks but mine and the cat’s,” he teased. Ty groaned and rolled his eyes, looking at Zane sideways as he tried not to smile. “It’s okay. Nothing will show… as long as you wear a tie to the office tomorrow,” Zane added cheekily.
    “I’m not worried,” Ty muttered. “We’re supposed to be at the office early so they can go over all our technical shit,” he informed Zane softly, falling back on the topic of work to avoid the subject of ties and getting caught fucking a co-worker. He gave a deep sigh of resignation. “We’re so screwed, Garrett.”
    “Why do you say that?” Zane murmured as their legs easily settled together. They were both still sticky and sweaty and so were the sheets, but Zane didn’t care.
    Ty shrugged. “It’s one thing to play a part. It’s another to play a real person,” he said with emphasis. “Our marks know the people we’re supposed to be better than we do. And we’ll be flying solo. That backup team will be a last resort. Our only weapons are whatever we can sneak through security on the HMS Sinkytowne.” His nose wrinkled, and he sneered slightly. “It’s like a floating death trap. And my Manchester English is pretty damn rusty.”
    Zane wasn’t too sure a high-class cruise liner could be called a death trap, per se, but he got the idea. Ty had probably had enough of boats for one lifetime after being deployed so many times. “McCoy also said these people haven’t ever met, and it’s not that likely they really know that much about each other. The less we try to act like someone else, the better off we’ll be,” Zane said, knowing from past experience that being yourself as much as possible while undercover made it much easier to act your way out of