I swallowed. “I’m a bad brother,” I admitted out loud to him. “I’m letting Noah sit in jail?—”
“What could you do to get him out?” Elliot asked, his voice gentle.
“I don’t know,” I replied. “You’d think I would, because I fuckingworkin criminal justice—but I just don’t.”
I felt Elliot take a deep breath. “Baby, you’re a crime scene tech and an arson investigator.”
“Almost,” I corrected, more out of habit than anything else. My exam was supposed to be in September, although I was missing classes by being here, so I might have to put it off. Yet another reason I wanted to go home.
“Good enough,” Elliot replied. “But you arenota lawyer, a cop, or an investigator. Why would you know how to get someone out of jail?”
I leaned against him, trying to convince myself that he was right. Because I didn’t know what else I could do. Noah had a lawyer, an expensive one, and I’d also talked to a lawyer. I’d tried begging Hart for help. I’d tried cooperating with the police, for all the good it had done me.
I didn’t know what else I could do.
And I hated it.
I closed my eyes, trying to block out the rest of the world and just listen to the steady rhythms of Elliot’s lungs and heart. To let myself get lost in the feeling of his body against mine, the warmth and solid strength of him, the reminder that he lived and breathed. The hand gently rubbing my back, the occasional press of lips against my hair—those reminded me that he loved me. That he thought I deserved his love.
I shifted in his arms, needing more than just closeness.
Tentative, uncertain how he was going to respond, I brought my lips to his.
The kiss was soft, gentle, a yielding tenderness that began as comfort, but slipped into something more desperate as I tried to push everything but Elliot out of my head.
Elliot let out a soft sound of need, but it shifted at the end, and he pressed one palm against my chest.
“Not that I’m complaining, but are you sure?” he asked softly, the hand on my chest sliding up and around the back of my neck, his palm warm and a little rough against my skin.
“I’m sure. I don’t want to think,” I told him. “I don’t want to beableto think.”
Elliot let out a soft humming growl. “I can do that.”
The hand on the back of my neck pulled my lips back to his, and this kiss was anything but soft and gentle. Lips and tongue andteeth, and I gasped as he bit—gently, because Elliot’s teeth are sharp—my lower lip, pulling it into his mouth as his free hand slid up under the t-shirt I’d put on after my shower.
And then he pushed me back, tugging my shirt away from me before my back hit the mattress, sliding his body between my thighs. He bent to kiss behind my ear, sucking on the skin as his hands roamed my chest.
I tugged slightly on the hem of his shirt, and he stripped it off, exposing the planes of his abs. I reached up and smoothed my hands over his taut belly. He sucked in a breath, and I felt saliva build in my mouth as I watched his shorts get tighter around his rising erection.
I moved my hands from his stomach to the fly of his shorts, undoing the button and then the zipper as he rose up on his knees to make space for me to unzip them. I didn’t bother letting him remove them entirely—I reached in and pulled out his cock, half-sitting up so that I could take him into my mouth.
“Fuck,” Elliot gasped out, one hand sliding into my hair and making a fist, gripping the strands hard.
I moaned around the musky taste of him, running my tongue around his girth, suckling, pulling his hips toward me, wanting him to fuck my mouth.
He pulled my head away with the fist in my hair. “Baby, I fucking love your mouth, but you gotta be careful.” It was a risk to let him come in my mouth—some people with alpha-gal also developed semen allergies. Part of me was sorely tempted to find out, but I let him pull away.
“Then give me something else to do,” I told him.
He slid off the bed, dropping his shorts and the underwear he’d worn beneath them, then grabbed my ankles, grunting a little as he pulled me toward him. “Shorts off,” he ordered.
I squirmed my way out of them, and he grabbed and threw them to the floor, then climbed back onto the bed between my legs. He pressed our bodies together, once again capturing my mouth with his, his tongue branding mine, his teeth scraping against my lower lip.
One rough hand gripped my erection, squeezing, tugging, pulling a soft moan from me that he immediately captured with his mouth, still covering mine. He let go of my cock, his fingers creeping lower to tease at the sac below, his lips moving to the side of my neck, then my collar bone, then down across my chest until he could suck one nipple into his mouth, the wet and heat of it making me gasp.
Then he nipped at it, and I let out a little yelp.
“Too much?” he asked, looking up at me through thick lashes.
