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and Jace came in his hand when he spoke them.
    “Baby boy likes that—takes his commands well,” Tomcat crooned, and Jace wondered how he was hard again so soon after the earth-shattering orgasm. “But you’re far from done.”
    “Good,” was all he managed before Tomcat’s cock drove into him hard and fast and took his goddamned breath away with every single stroke. His thighs were held apart, his head swam, and all he could do was keep his eyes open and watch Tomcat’s face as the pleasurable assault continued, until he came in the fiercest orgasm yet. It left him weak as a newborn with what was probably an idiotic smile on his face.
    And yet, as relaxed as he was, he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next.
    Nothing good, he supposed. Especially because revealing his real reason for being involved with the Killers wasn’t happening. Not with Kenny’s life at risk. And even though he felt guilty about the intel he’d given the FBI a month before his near-deadly mission, he tempered that with the fact that he’d just saved Tomcat’s life.
    Jace knew where the Killers kept their gun stash—Nacho had been particularly mouthy one drunken night and let a few things slip. They were innocuous, or would’ve been to anyone but Jace. He’d laughed and drank and pretended he hadn’t gained anything more than a hangover from that night, but in reality, it had been a big score for the FBI.
    They were watching the two warehouses closely now, although they wouldn’t move on the leads immediately but rather use them to try to hook some bigger fish, like the Colombians and whoever else the catch of the day was.
    When Tomcat took several calls in a row and came back to bed even more tightly wound than before, Jace knew that when it was time for him to leave Tomcat’s apartment, this part of the fantasy was over.

Chapter Four
    Jace was sprawled out on his stomach, lying diagonally across the king-sized bed. Tomcat wasn’t sure if he was truly sleeping or just so content he wasn’t moving, but he kept an eye on him as he checked in with his handler.
    It was Sunday morning—the weekend had blurred into nonstop sex and food, and Tomcat could think of nothing better.
    “Get him out of there by morning,” his handler told him. He’d been none too happy about the recent development, and he’d be even less so if he knew Jace had made Tomcat. As it was, he was simply pissed that Tomcat the MC enforcer had allowed someone in with the MC to get so close.
    Yeah, well, that made two of them, he supposed. But it didn’t stop him from strolling over and pulling the covers off the boy. Before Jace could even turn around, Tomcat was spreading his legs, mounting him, running his tongue down along Jace’s spine and continuing along his crack.
    Jace’s breath caught hard, and he instinctively tried to move away. Tomcat anticipated that—the move actually worked in his favor. Jace’s hips rose, giving Tomcat better access to what he wanted, and he held Jace’s hips firmly and in place as his tongue circled Jace’s now-exposed hole.
    “Tomcat…Jesus…” Jace stopped speaking after that, when Tomcat’s tongue speared inside of him, fucking him until the boy was pounding his fists in vain against the mattress, all the agonizing pleasure a good rimming was giving him pushing him over the edge.
    He’d bet Jace was blushing—he’d waited until the boy felt a little more comfortable—and cocky—with the sex before he did this.
    He buried his face inside of Jace’s ass, not letting him go even after he came all over himself and the sheets, loving the way he tasted. He grabbed the muscled globes of Jace’s ass hard, wanting to leave imprints of his hands there. Wanted the boy to have memories of this weekend forever.
    And finally, when Jace collapsed, nearly wrung out, Tomcat flipped him and lubed him carefully. But Jace was so beyond fighting—was lying there open to anything Tomcat wanted to do to him, which made