Cold Shadow (Cold Country #2)(23)

Drew came around the corner dressed in similar clothes as the day before: plaid shirt over a white wife-beater, worn-out jeans, and work boots. Today he wore a ball cap over his straight hair, turned backward. His eyes flashed recognition before turning wary. The piercing in his eyebrow hitched up in question.

Nathan noticed the men he was walking with bristle at his presence. The shifting glances between them pissed him off. Sometimes, like now when he was having trouble controlling his temper, he took this shit personally. He was a cop, of course they would react that way to him. But today he just was not in the mood to play. Today he didn't need bullshit; he needed Drew, and there he was. 

"You," he said rougher than he meant to and pointed at Drew. "Come with me."

Drew's eyes narrowed, his shoulders grew rigid as he spouted out a string of Spanish obscenities that his fellow workers chortled at.

"And stop cussing at me. I do know some Spanish. Let's go." He tapped a file folder in his hands trying to look less threatening, but he knew he failed.

Drew said something to one of the men, they did the fist bump thing and Drew followed him along the corridor to one of the unused offices. Nathan opened the door and let him precede him inside.

As soon as Nathan had the door closed, he turned the lock so they wouldn't be disturbed. He sure as fuck didn't want any of this overheard. His hand slipped into his hair again, dragging more free of the elastic. Exhausted, he turned and leaned against the door and dragged in a long breath to clear his head. He tried to come up with the words he needed, but the look in Drew's eyes stopped him cold.

"What the hell is your problem?" Drew said, his accent nearly as thick as his agitation as he bounced around the nearly empty room. He wasn't the uptight federal agent Nathan expected, he was a pissed off … punk.

"What the hell do you mean? Shit, Drew, cut out the accent." Nathan watched as Drew rounded on him, his eyes weren't readable behind the chocolate mocha-colored lenses, but he could read his facial expressions and managed to bring a hand up to block the swing when it came. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Besides being harassed by the goddamned cops and having to earn my way back in today? Not to mention a mean-ass foreman who wants my head on a fucking platter. How dare you come in here and point at me like I'm some piece of shit under your shoe? Goddamn, Nathan, no wonder these people are afraid of your department. Heavy-handed fucking racist … "

That was all he needed to hear, frustration turned quickly to anger and Nathan forgot why he came here. He felt the rumble start in his chest, his fingers itched to twist the smirk off Drew's asshole face. He grabbed a handful of Drew's shirt and yanked him close, growling in his face. "I am not a racist, you fucking moron. You waltz your ass in here and jump in the middle of my investigation, offering no help or insight, while you partake of my hospitality and you have the fucking gall to call me a racist?"

Drew just smiled, and before Nathan knew what hit him, he found himself flat on his back on the floor with Drew straddling him, his fist raised in the air.

Body buzzing with the need to react, Nathan had to fight hard to just lay there and wait for the punch. He mentally prepared himself to just take it and get it over with. However, he wasn't prepared for Drew's mouth to close over his. He moaned despite his surprise. What was worse, he leaned into the kiss, accepting it, taking control when Drew tried to pull away. His tongue seeking and finding Drew's, tangling with it before pulling it into his mouth.

The erection pressed against his belly had him panting into Drew's mouth. Nathan rocked into him, listening for the tell-tale sound that would take this to the next level-fuck!

"Oh, fuck. Get off me. Shit, Drew, get the fuck off me before I-"

"Before you what?" Drew moved his body sensuously along Nathan's, the agitation of a few moments before had grown into something dangerous. "Hit me?"

"Do you want me to hit you?" Nathan couldn't think with Drew's face so close to his. He couldn't stop his body from responding to him either. "I could kill you right now."

"I'd rather you fucked me. Jesus Christ, what the hell am I saying?" Terror entered Drew's eyes, the contact lenses doing very little to conceal the stark, needy pain that took the place of the anger of just a few moments ago. "Shit."



       
         
       
        

He rolled off Nathan, and rising quickly to his feet, he retreated to the wall farthest away and leaned against it, pounding it with his fist.