Geography of Murder by P. A. Brown Read Free Book Online Page B

full of big leather men in chains and bonds. I saw him looking them over but he didn't pick anything. I swung the swivel stool around to face me and slipped my hand behind his neck. I squeezed. He shivered and leaned into my hand. I shifted to lessen the pressure in my groin.
    "Is this a good idea, Alex?"
    I liked the way my name sounded on his lips. But at the same time I didn't want him getting the idea he was calling the shots here. Not when he'd surrendered those rights to me by coming here.
    "I know what I'm doing, Jason Aaron Zachary. Do your friends call you Zack?"
    "Jason," he said. "My friends call me Jason."
    I stroked the soft skin below his ear, lightly touching the Chinese tat I had noticed earlier. It was about the size of a silver dollar and looked like a figure standing beside a tree.
    "What does this mean?"
    "Fate," he murmured.
    "Whose? Yours? What is your fate, Jason?"
    "To be alone, I think."
    "You're not alone." My fingers moved down to his collarbone and lingered over the grooves and bumps there.
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    Geography of Murder
    by P. A. Brown
    "You're a cop," he said. "I just got out of jail. Is this a good idea?"
    I pushed his legs open and moved between them. My hand moved down his arm, fingers caressing the curve of his biceps under the fine silk shirt he wore. The silk felt cool, his skin underneath was furnace hot. I smoothed the heel of my hand over his nipple until it poked into my hand and his breath came hard and fast.
    "It's the best idea I've had all day."
    I pressed closer, touching, my face less than an inch from his. His eyes dilated and I smelled his desire, felt his warm breath on my cheek.
    "Take your shirt off."
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    62

    Geography of Murder
    by P. A. Brown

Jason
    My hands moved of their own volition. I skimmed my raw silk shirt off and dropped it into a puddle on the carpeted floor. Outside a dog barked. Or maybe it was just my heart. I sat, hands resting lightly on my knees, never taking my eyes off his face. The pores of his fair skin, the light dusting of freckles across his nose, the incipient beard that was the lightest down on his cheeks and chin made him beautiful. He had full red lips, parted slightly and a strong jaw I longed to touch.
    He had taken his glasses off. I waited. Waited for him to tell me what to do.
    I didn't have to wait long. "Stand up."
    I complied. He stepped back, studying me. I desperately hoped he would like what he saw. He must have. He raised both hands and slid stiff fingers through my tousled, newly washed hair. Then he moved over to the side of my head, fanning his fingers over my neck. He tugged at the gold studs in my ears.
    "Those should be diamonds," he said. Fingertips skimmed down my back and circled around to the front. He pinched my right nipple and the gold ring in it between his thumb and forefinger, twisted it, then soothed the burn with a softer touch. I was pebble hard and wanting more. "Don't move," he said when I tried to step closer.
    "You got anything else pierced?" he asked.
    "No."
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    Geography of Murder
    by P. A. Brown
    "Too bad."
    His fingers traced the outline of my tat, stroking my shivering skin. "What's that?" he murmured. "Some kind of fantasy? A phoenix? A gryphon?"
    I closed my eyes, savoring his touch. "A bird of paradise."
    He bent and touched his lips to my chest, his tongue sliding over the bird shape. "You mean it's real?"
    My eyelids fluttered and I wound my shaking fingers through his short hair. "Very real. South New Guinea tropics..." I moaned as he moved up my body. I felt the tickle of his breath on my eyelashes. He explored the canvas of my face, touching everything until he arrived at my mouth. His first touch was feather light. Then he pressed his open mouth over mine and I gasped when his tongue invaded me.
    He tasted of beer and garlic and something that was uniquely his own. He grew rougher, shoving his tongue deep into my mouth, pressing me back until my spine was against the bar. One