Hazel eyes opened, found mine. “I need you.”
I squeezed tighter. “This or nothing,” I told him gently.
He made a soft grumbling noise. “Want you to come,” he managed, despite me picking up the pace slightly.
“I will,” I told him.
“Want towatchyou come,” he gasped, and his good hand covered mine under the water. “Baby, please.”
I swallowed, feeling the flush spreading over my chest.
I let him take over touching himself, his eyes bright as he watched me push myself up until I could straddle the side of the built-in tub, leaning back a little so he could watch me wrap my fingers around the flushed pink of my cock. I let out a hissed breath as my wet fingers slid over the heat of my erection.
Elliot let out a soft mewling sound, and the sloshing increased as he stroked himself faster. I slid one foot under his thigh, spreading my legs wider.
“Oh, fuck,” Elliot breathed, “Fuck.”
I didn’t have the breath to disagree—or agree, for that matter—panting in the wet heat as my balls drew up tight against my body. I wasn’t going to last—not watching Elliot fucking his own fist, color darkening his chest, his hair pulling loose from the short braid at the back of his neck.
“Come for me, baby,” he half-growled. “Fuck, God, come for me.”
I couldn’t help myself—his voice begging me to come, the sight of his fist working his flushed cock, his parted lips panting, eyes bright and hectic as they raked over my body. I whimpered, my belly almost aching as I struggled to control myself just a little longer. I gripped the base of my cock, watching him, watching moisture beading along his chest, a flush on his skin, his cock dark and thick in his fist.
I moaned, desperate, struggling to hold on.
“Come for me, baby.Fuck. Come for me.”
I grasped my cock in my fist, pumping myself hard, giving myself over to the throbbing pulse of my orgasm, the thick white creaminess of it spilling out over my fingers, dripping onto the molded tan plastic of the tub.
“Fuck,” Elliot hissed, his own hand speeding up as cum mixed with water, his breaths panting out in time to his strokes as it pumped out of him.
I leaned back against the wall, one leg in the water, the other still on the bathmat as I caught my breath. Elliot had his head on the back wall, slightly slumped in the water, which now very definitely needed to be changed out.
“This was a very counterproductive bath.”
I gotElliot settled on the couch, newly scrubbed, his hair washed, brushed, and braided, although not as neatly as he did it. It had been a long time since I’d braided Noah’s hair when we were little, and I’d cared more about what it had looked like than he ever did.
I was making brunch: English muffins, chicken sausage gravy, grits, turkey bacon, eggs, and rough-chopped home fries with peppers and onions. There was shredded cheese for Elliot, and the coffee maker was gurgling, brewing a fresh pot.
And then my phone rang.
Lacy.
I almost didn’t answer it. I’d been promised the day off.
“Mays,” I said into it.
“Positive ID on Elliot’s blood,” she said without preamble. “And a positive match on the dead badger.”
My heart hammered in my throat. “You’re sure?”
“Absolutely. The other DNA came back as a match on a missing timber wolf shifter from the Oneida reservation down near Green Bay.”
“Holy shit,” I said, softly. “Lacy…”
“I already called Smith,” she said. “He’ll get the warrant today.”
I let out a long, relieved breath. “Thank God.”
