Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Chapter 2
Dev hopped around on the balls of his feet, tugging up his jeans as Cash stepped out of the bedroom. Appear passive. At least that was the attitude he kept drilling into his brain. Look surprised, even shocked, but not culpable. Anything but guilty. He quickly stuffed his junk inside the jeans and carefully zipped up, then headed for the door where Joe and Cash stood just beyond the threshold. Dev casually propped his shoulder against the frame, pushing the longer on top pieces of hair off his face.
“What’s goin’ on?” Dev asked the silly question, hoping to sound clueless.
No, he needed to sound innocent.
Or maybe blank.
Yeah, blank. But sexy.
What did blank sound like?
Maybe clueless was better.
“Cummings died tonight. The Disciples prospect responsible for Keyes Dixon’s current legal situation,” Joe explained, as if Dev wouldn’t remember the loser who tried to end his friend. Joe kept his gaze on the tablet Cash now read from.
“They’re saying it was a weather-induced accident.” The way Cash said ‘weather-induced’ spoke of the doubt he had in whoever gave the official explanation.
He bet that sexy crease between Cash’s brow was pushed together into a hard line. It happened when Cash concentrated on work or whenever he rode out his orgasm to completion.
Someday, he wanted to lick that line. If he weren’t in the throes of his own release, he could probably make that shit happen.
He’d also used his tongue to explore the length of Cash’s body scar.
Tingles shot across Dev’s body in anticipation. Little goose bumps followed. Man, that scar was hot.
He was such a damn perv. A man lost his life tonight, and there he was, thinking about all the devious things he planned to do to his secret agent man. He glanced down to the floor and smiled a small smile. Whatever. He was so damned good at letting his beast out to play that some might consider it a skill.
“What did you do?” Cash asked and tilted his head toward Dev.
Yep, the line was there. When pressed angrily together like that, Cash’s visage rivaled Dev’s moniker of Devilman.
“What’re you talkin’ about?” Dev asked, again trying for innocence. He shrugged the shoulder not supporting him against the doorframe. It was an awkward move. He’d have to practice later to help drive his innocence home with any future misdeeds. “I’ve been right here with you all night. What could I’ve done?”
His pretty boy was smart, but Dev had still thought it might take at least a couple of hours for Cash to put two and two together.
A house full of federal agents, on the coldest night of the year, and they not only couldn’t keep Dev inside, but never knew he’d been gone. Amateurs.
No wonder the Dallas DEA field office, the local FBI field office, probably the ATF, the DEA national headquarters in DC, and the US Attorney General’s office couldn’t keep up with the Disciples. They continually underestimated him and his brothers.
“Hang on. There’s more.” Joe took the tablet, swiping this way and that until he turned the screen back to Cash. “It’s the lead story in every DFW publication. It’s gaining national attention now.”
Cash read for several long seconds then abruptly turned back to Dev, assessing him.
“How did this happen?”
Dev had to remind himself that Cash hadn’t told him what happened, so he couldn’t give the answer he wanted to, namely: I don’t know how the intel on the bitch Dallas district attorney who dated my Disciples’ brother a million years ago got leaked to the press.
His brows dropped together as he stared at Cash. He gave his best confused glare. He’d perfected that look. He added a solid head shake for good measure.
Cash didn’t buy it. He was dating a fucking James Bond with as efficiently as Cash put it all together. Huh. He’d have to be on his A game all the time now.
“I’m still waiting?” Cash lifted a hand, giving an exaggerated look of innocence.
Was Cash mocking him?
Before Dev could get too angry over being derided, the agent’s shoulders squared off, tightening under his frustration.
Dev rolled his eyes. He sucked at lying. The truth was just easier all the way around.
Whatever. He wasn’t taking the total blame. This was one hundred percent the fault of the government and their bullshit bureaucracy and rules. Trial by peers… Right. What peers did Keyes have? A jury box filled with LGBT positive one-percenter motorcycle club members to give him a fair trial? All the while, that poser Cummings was released from prison early to narc on the Disciples club activity to the bitch district attorney. No fairness in that.
Dev liked his brand of justice better. Seemed easier and saved the taxpayers’ millions of dollars. He should run for fucking public office.
On that note, he went back into the bedroom, now feeling like a caged lion.