Cold Steel

Cold Steel

Morgan Lee

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Undercover, under arrest and under a hot cop...

To DEA Agent Parker Tate, being cuffed and frisked during a drug bust is part of the job. But when fellow agent, Garret Lamont, does the frisking, his thoughts are more on blowing his partner than his cover.

 
PUBLISHED BY: Demanding Romance
ISBN:
PUBLICATION DATE: 2010
WORD COUNT: 5090
SEXUAL CONTENT RATING: 5 5 5 5 5
EBOOK READER RATING:
CATEGORIES: ManLove, Erotica, BDSM, Contemporary
KEYWORDS:
 

EBOOKS BY Demanding Romance

EBOOKS BY Morgan Lee

 
EXCERPT
COPYRIGHT Morgan Lee/2010

Cold steel enclosed his wrists and with a raspy click bound his hands behind his back. He should have been afraid, but this position came with his profession. Large, firm hands slid from his booted ankle to his knee, slowing on the trip up his thigh and stalling at the edge of his ass.

Parker Tate lifted his head from the cool hood of the squad car he was bent over. Chaos reigned fifty feet away. Beams of white light bounced off a barn and nearby trees in competition with the flashing red and yellow ones in the pre-dawn darkness as DEA agents and local police gathered the meth dealers he’d been living with for nearly a month.

“Don’t move.” The deep voice vibrated against his hip as those hands followed the same pattern along his left leg. They splayed under the curve of his buttocks, thumbs tracing the seam of his crack through his jeans.

Adrenaline pumping through his veins, Parker straightened, only to be shoved back against the hood. “I said not to fucking move, scumbag.”

The hard slam nearly knocked the air from his lungs. Then again, he could barely breathe for the tension building in his chest.

Hot breath ruffled the hair near his ear, and there was no mistaking the solid length riding the same spot the cop’s thumbs had been. “I’m trying to make this look good.”

Between being mashed against the metal beneath him and the bite of his zipper, Parker’s cock throbbed. He pushed backward, grinding his ass into Agent Garret Lamont’s groin. “It’s not going to look good if I fucking come in my jeans.”

“Since the night you left, I’ve thought of nothing but fucking you.” Garret hissed, steam visibly clouding the frigid air with every word. “Hard, fast, and without mercy.” In a louder voice, he said, “You have the right to remain silent...”

Blood whooshing through his ears, Parker only half listened as his partner read him his rights. It had been a long four weeks, and all the time he’d been worried about how he left Garret. Fuck, if he’d known Garret liked a little kink in his play, he might not have waited so long to come clean.

They hadn’t been partners but a couple months when Parker began to suspect the new boy liked cock as much as he did. He’d wanted to act on his suspicions, ached to prove them right. He’d fantasized about how easy it would be to lean across the front seat of their cruiser and plant his mouth over Garret’s. How good it would feel to slide his tongue past those full and beckoning lips, to taste the peppermint Garret perpetually sucked. And oh god, to be that peppermint.

Unfortunately, that would have meant revealing his own secrets, and in the good ole boy world of law enforcement, a gay cop wouldn’t last long, much less advance. And he’d worked hard to make DEA agent. Parker loved his job. Was damn good at it, too.

But the night he’d left to infiltrate the meth ring, something—maybe the thought of never seeing Garret again—prompted Parker to confront him and he hadn’t had time to be subtle. His contact had given him twenty minutes to make a connection—Parker had spilled his guts in five. He’d issued Garret an invitation to become not only his partner in the unit, but in bed. Then he’d jumped out of the car and walked away.

 
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