Deadly Coincidence (Brantley Walker: Off the Books Book 4) Page 11

  Good-looking, yes. Trey would give him that. He’d been a bit taken aback by the man the very first time he’d met him. Oh, yeah, the guy tripped his trigger. But even he would admit it was a hair trigger, not exactly a great feat.

  Luckily, he’d managed to avoid Magnus for the most part since then. But now … here? Who did they think he was? A fucking saint?

  He downed half his beer, not tasting it.

  “If you’re thinkin’ about bonin’ him, don’t. He’s got a girlfriend.”

  Did he? That was a bit of a surprise considering the way Magnus had been eyeballing him a short time ago.

  Hmm. Perhaps he shouldn’t write him off just yet.

  Wait. Hold up.

  Nope.

  Nuh-uh.

  He was not going to see Magnus as a challenge. He didn’t need any more fucking challenges in his life, thank you very much. He had more than his fair share, and the men he chose to fuck needed to be willing, eager, and easily cast off. That was a definite. Screwing a guy who worked for his brother would go against every single one of his rules. First being never screw a guy who worked for your brother.

  They were new rules. So what.

  He took another chug of his beer, briefly wondered where the hell the rest of it had gone.

  “Cyrus better keep his damn hands off him,” Trey muttered to himself when he peered over to find Cyrus grinning like a loon, all up in Magnus’s personal space.

  “Trey.”

  He heard the warning in his brother’s tone, chose to ignore it.

  “I gotta take a leak,” he said, setting his empty bottle on a nearby table with a little more force than he intended.

  This was stupid.

  He should not be here tonight. Not here, not thinking about Magnus, not worried about Cyrus. What he needed to do was walk right out the front door, hop in his truck, and head home. Alone.

  But he didn’t go to the front door. Nope, his ass detoured down the narrow hallway—squeezing past a couple who appeared to be engaged in a rather intimate conversation—that led to the bathroom.

  Sighing, he opened the door, grateful when he found it was empty.

  Once inside, he did his business then washed his hands, focusing on inhaling and exhaling. There was no reason he needed to get in a pissing match with Cyrus tonight. The guy had just as much right to be here as Trey did. And since Trey had no designs on Magnus, they could get as acquainted as they wanted. He didn’t give a shit.

  As he dried his hands with the scratchy paper towels, Trey stared at his reflection in the mirror, mentally repeated that last part, and nodded his head, as though in agreement.

  Feeling somewhat better, he exited the bathroom only to come face-to-face with Cyrus, who appeared to be waiting for him in the hallway.

  “What do you want?” Trey barked, figuring they had to hash this out or his night would definitely be in the shitter.

  He ignored the eyes that shifted his way, the couple now interested in this tête-à-tête.

  “To talk,” Cyrus said, his voice lower, lacking that easygoing charm he’d laid on thick earlier.

  “Nothin’ to talk about, Cy. It’s done. It’s over. You made it clear what was more important.”

  When he tried to sidestep Cyrus, he came up short, the other man blocking his path.

  “Don’t do this,” Trey warned.

  “Do what? Force you to talk to me?”

  “I’m not in the mood.”

  “No?” Cyrus stepped forward, chuckled softly. “You’re always in the mood.”

  Trey’s gaze caught on movement behind Cyrus. That was when he noticed Magnus stepping into the hall, heading in their direction.

  “Let it go, Cy,” Trey said, this time trying to dodge the other way.

  Cyrus blocked him again.

  “Why don’t we just go back to your place,” Cyrus suggested. “We can—”

  “Hey,” Magnus interrupted, a frown on his face, as though he wasn’t pleased by what they were doing. “What’s goin’ on here?”

  To Trey’s surprise, Cyrus stepped back, gave Trey room to breathe. If he’d had time to be grateful, he would’ve been.

  “Now it gets interesting,” Cyrus said with a mischievous smirk. “The more the merrier. That’s my motto.”

  “Yeah, no,” Trey said quickly. “You two are welcome to party without me.”

  Trey wasn’t sure what he’d expected to happen next, but it certainly wasn’t for Magnus to insert himself where Cyrus had been, toe-to-toe with Trey. Nor was it for Magnus to reach up, slide his hand behind Trey’s neck, and pull him down for a kiss.

  A kiss he willingly indulged. Why he did, he would never know, and he feared it would be something he wondered for quite some time.

  Christ. The man could kiss. Bold and daring, yet there was a vulnerability and easy charm he could sense beneath it. Enough that Trey knew Magnus would surrender control if he so much as whispered the command.

  The hand at the back of his neck tightened, Magnus’s thumb brushing along his jaw. It was a move he didn’t anticipate, one that had his heart kicking into overdrive.

  He could feel Cyrus staring, knew he was likely wondering the same thing Trey was: what the fuck?

  “It’s like that, huh?” Cyrus asked, his tone having lost the happy-go-lucky vibe once more.

  “Yeah,” Magnus answered softly, staring at Trey. “It’s like that.”

  Trey had no idea what came over him in that moment. Perhaps it was because he knew Magnus was fucking with him or maybe because Cyrus had been the last one to fuck him over. Whatever the motivation, Trey leaned forward, gripped Magnus by the shirt and jerked him closer, fusing their mouths together.

  Fuck the whole chaste brushing of lips. This was a buffet, and Trey took advantage of it, sliding his tongue right into Magnus’s mouth as he backed the man against the wall, pinning him between the wood paneling and his body.

  When Magnus moaned, Trey thought he might lose it.

  And when Magnus’s hand tightened around the back of his neck again, his tongue joining in on the action, Trey got light-headed.

  The only thought that went through his head?

  What.

  The.

  Fuck.

  Only this time, it was on repeat.

  *

  Magnus knew he was in over his head before he’d intervened, before he’d gotten close enough to get a whiff of that spicy cologne Trey wore, to see the gray striations in his blue eyes, to feel the heat of his breath on his lips.

  He’d expected the kiss. Hell, he’d even suspected it might rock his world, but this…

  Ho-oly-fu-uck.

  He never would’ve expected to be damn near knocked off his feet, to be manhandled so expertly that his cock fucking hurt from how hard it was. Yeah, he liked being shoved up against the wall, his mouth plundered by this dominating man. So much so, he didn’t give a shit that they were in a public place or that this could go sideways at any given moment.

  His hand curled firmly on the back of Trey’s neck, holding him there as their lips and teeth clanged and clashed. This kiss made the first seem like a prelude. They’d gone from zero to sixty in under three seconds, and Magnus saw no signs of slowing down, didn’t matter that there was a proverbial brick wall in the distance.

  He moaned, unable to help himself as he bore Trey’s weight, content to be pinned to the wall beneath his muscular body. He wanted to strip him bare and get intimately acquainted with every fucking inch, to—

  “He’s gone,” someone said. “You can stop now.”

  Magnus wanted to punch the fucker who spoke, because it caused Trey to pull away. The only saving grace was that Trey was sucking in air the same way Magnus was, those steel-blue eyes looked as rocked as he felt. He briefly considered explaining what had happened, why he’d inserted himself between him and Cyrus, but wasn’t sure it would do any good.

  In his defense, his actions were altruistic. He’d done it to get the other guy to
back off, because clearly Trey had been attempting to get away from him, and the man didn’t seem to be getting the hint.

  What were friends for, right?

  His good deed had backfired big-time because now that he’d been lip-locked with Trey, he wanted to explore it further, to see just what was behind that sexy, brooding exterior.

  Someone cleared their throat and Magnus remembered where he was. It took effort, but he let his hand fall from Trey’s neck, pulling back so he could fill his oxygen-starved lungs.

  “I need some air,” Trey finally said, stepping back.

  “Trey. Wait.”

  He didn’t, and Magnus wasn’t sure he should go after him. He managed to refrain, heading back to the table, back to where Brantley and Reese were talking.

  Brantley glanced around him, frowned. “Where’s Trey?”

  “Said he needed some air.” Magnus picked up his beer and downed what was left of it.

  “Not that it’s any of my business, but if you wanna”—Reese fluttered his hand—“whatever’s goin’ on with you and … you might wanna go after him.”

  “I’ll give him a minute.”

  “You won’t get a minute. If I know my brother, and I do, he’s debatin’ on whether to come back in or head out. He’ll do that for a minute, maybe two, then he’s leavin’,” Brantley said, stressing the last word.

  Magnus frowned.

  “Seriously,” Brantley added.

  Reese’s mirroring expression confirmed it.

  Magnus glanced over at the door as though he could see out into the night, to where Trey had disappeared to.

  Fuck.

  “Happy New Year,” Brantley called out with a gruff laugh as Magnus walked away.

  Heading for the door, Magnus tossed his empty beer bottle in one of the recycle barrels. He wasn’t exactly sure why he was going after Trey, other than to apologize for overstepping. The words would only be to placate Trey, of course, or maybe just an excuse to talk to him, because Magnus wasn’t the least bit sorry. He would do it again in a heartbeat given the opportunity.

  He ventured outside, let the cold air fill his lungs as he glanced left and right before stepping off the wooden porch and into the gravel parking lot.

  It was cold out tonight, but not so cold he needed a coat. Especially not since his blood was still flowing thick and hot through his veins thanks to that mind-blowing kiss he’d engaged in.

  Magnus scanned the rows of vehicles he could see. The small bar was packed tonight, something he was told happened quite frequently. Probably had something to do with Moonshiners being the only bar in town and a favorite amongst locals. Magnus wasn’t exactly a local, having grown up in the small town just east of Coyote Ridge. Close enough to venture through, but rarely ever to stop, until recently when he’d acquired two new clients who lived here.

  Not knowing where Trey had parked, Magnus took a chance, heading for the right side of the building.

  It appeared to be his lucky night, because there was Trey, leaning against the wall, head tilted back, eyes closed. Debating, apparently.

  Magnus cleared his throat to signal his approach.

  “Go back inside,” Trey instructed without bothering to look his way.

  Never good with authority, Magnus moved in closer rather than away.

  “Go. Back. Inside.”

  He continued until he was no more than a foot away. “No.”

  “Trust me, kid, I’m not a man you wanna fuck with.”

  “Kid?” Magnus snorted. “Did you really just call me a kid?”

  “You’re what? Barely old enough to drink?” Trey’s head came down to level, eyes opening, his disdain apparent.

  Magnus didn’t back down. Wouldn’t. “Twenty-four,” he said, content to know Trey’d had the mind to find out how old he was.

  “Like I said. Kid.”

  “Maybe you’re just an old man,” he taunted. “You’re what? Forty?”

  “Pretty damn close,” Trey said with a sigh.

  He’d pegged Trey for late thirties because he knew Trey was older than Brantley and Brantley was thirty-five, but he’d never really given much thought to an actual number. He didn’t give a damn about age. It meant nothing. Certainly not to a man who’d lost his entire family when he was sixteen and had been taking care of himself since. Some didn’t have the luxury of being a kid for long, and Magnus fell in that category.

  “What happened in there?” Magnus asked, not willing to let this be over simply because Trey willed it to be.

  “Not a damn thing.”

  “Felt like somethin’ to me.”

  Trey’s eyes locked with his, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Magnus relived those too-brief moments when Trey’s tongue had been dueling with his own. It had been hotter than anything he’d experienced as of late.

  “You’re out of your depths here, Magnus,” Trey stated firmly.

  “Am I?”

  Trey’s head cocked to the left, eyebrows lowering. “What happened to the girlfriend?”

  Magnus frowned, not understanding.

  “Brantley told me.” Trey sighed. “Warned me offa you right quick.”

  “No girlfriend,” Magnus informed him. “Boyfriend, either.”

  Trey’s gaze skimmed his face. “You’re bisexual?”

  “I am.” No sense denying it. “You got a problem with that?”

  Trey continued to stare, but when he spoke, it wasn’t to answer Magnus’s question. “Like I said, you’re outta your depths.”

  “Why? Because you’ve got a problem with the walk of shame? Fine. We’ll go to your place. I’ll be the one shamefully walkin’ come mornin’.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks.” Trey stood tall.

  When he turned to walk away, Magnus reached out, grabbed his arm.

  Not a good idea, he realized when Trey spun around and had him pinned up against the wood-sided wall before his brain could process the move. Did it make him a masochist that he was enjoying that sort of treatment?

  “I’m so fuckin’ tired of people manhandlin’ me tonight,” Trey ground out.

  Magnus probably should’ve apologized, maybe given up and walked away.

  He did neither of those things.

  “Yeah, well, that makes one of us,” he rasped as he leaned forward and crushed his mouth to Trey’s by palming the back of his head and holding him there.

  Like their earlier kiss, it was mind-numbing. His entire body lit up from the inside out. His cock swelled as all the blood in his veins headed south.

  For a brief second, Trey kissed him back, and it was fucking amazing. Unfortunately, it ended with Trey shoving away, breaking the kiss.

  “I’ll shred you,” Trey bit out, his voice so deep, so dark, it sent chills down Magnus’s spine.

  “I’d like to see you try.”

  “You’re outta your depths, Magnus. I suggest you back off.”

  “And if I choose not to?”

  Standing there in the shadows, Trey’s big body looming over him, Magnus had never wanted anyone more. There was something about being at this man’s mercy that did it for him. He’d never had that before. Yes, he usually preferred women to men, but he had indulged in both being that he was openly bisexual. But he tended to favor the path of least resistance when it came to his sexual encounters.

  Until now.

  “Because if I have a choice,” he continued when Trey did nothing more than stare, “then I choose not to.”

  *

  Trey hated that he was so fucking weak.

  This man…

  Practically a fucking kid…

  He was tempting Trey in a way he had no business tempting him.

  “You really want me to back off, you’re gonna have to make me,” Magnus declared, so much confidence in his tone.

  So.

  Fucking.

  Weak.

  Trey hated himself for wanting Magnus despite the fact the man was too stupid to know when to run. Or maybe becaus
e of it.

  “You know there’s only one thing I want from you,” Trey told him, moving in close, keeping his voice low.

  “Then you should take it.”

  He was so fucking cocky, so sure of himself, and damn it if that didn’t turn Trey on.

  “I will shred you,” Trey promised. “It’s inevitable.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe I’ll shred you.”

  Unfortunately, Trey knew that was the logical outcome, because he tended to get in over his head, but he was doing his best to warn Magnus off. It would save them both a hell of a lot of time and save Trey another round of heartache.

  “Only one thing, Magnus,” he repeated

  “I’m not expectin’ roses and wine here, cowboy.” Magnus leaned in, voice low and gruff. “I’m expectin’ you to fuck. Me.”

  Oh, he certainly wanted to.

  But he had to be on his turf. That was the only way. He didn’t want to know anything about Magnus, not where he lived, not what color his sheets were, not whether or not he kept a clean house. Knowing shit like that made it possible for Trey to want more and he couldn’t. Wouldn’t. He didn’t want more. He wanted one night of passionate, sinful, dirty sex. That was all.

  “Follow me.”

  Magnus peered up at him, his confusion evident.

  “To my place.”

  “You sure that’s wise? I’ll know where you live, might get the wrong idea.”

  “How else did you think we’d get there?”

  Magnus’s smirk was wicked. “I was thinkin’ black hood over my head, trussed up in the trunk of a car.”

  “I drive a truck.”

  “That works, too. As long as you tie me down.”

  Trey grinned. Yeah, he could like this one.

  Simply because he could, Trey gripped Magnus’s jaw, leaned in, and kissed him. This time, he didn’t amp it up; instead, he leisurely explored his mouth, lightly licking his tongue, his teeth, letting his other hand glide down Magnus’s side, then dipping his fingers into the waistband of his jeans, jerking him closer.

  “I will shred you,” Trey whispered. “That’s a promise.”

  “Do your worst, cowboy.”

  Trey pulled back, stared into his eyes. “I plan to.”

  Chapter Nine