6. Brent

CHAPTER 6

brENT

I could feel John's eyes on me as I left the coffee shop. I had shit to do, and no time to worry about my new roomie. He was a grown-ass man and could take care of himself. But as I walked the three blocks to my condo, I couldn't help but analyze what happened.

John wanted it as much as I did, and that had been some movie shit right there. Who wouldn't want to be grabbed by a handsome man in the middle of a coffee shop only to have the fuck kissed out of you?

I groaned as I ran my free hand over my head. I didn't do that romantic shit. But somehow, that asshole made my heart beat a little faster every time I saw him. Now all I felt was … rejection. He'd turned down my offer to be fuck buddies but wanted to be friends.

As I waited for the light to change, I finished my iced coffee. Tossing the empty cup into a recycling receptacle, I pulled out my phone. All of this was Dare's fault. He's the one who sent him to find me. That asshole.

I opened my messages and sent him a text.

Me: You mother fucker!

Checking the time, the plane wasn't supposed to take off for another fifteen minutes. Surely he hadn't turned his phone off yet.

When I got to the condo, I took the stairs two at a time until I reached our door. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I looked down at the doorknob and listened for movement. Since the incident with the tires, I have been on alert for any unusual activity. But all I heard was the upstairs neighbor's dog running across the floor.

After a very intense workout with Phantom at our new training facility, I stopped by the grocery store and my favorite deli to pick up dinner for two. I hadn't seen John at the office, so I had no idea if he was home. Either way, I wasn't going to be rude and eat in front of him. If he wasn't there, I'd just put it in the fridge.

As I climbed out of the Tahoe, my phone pinged with an incoming text. I sat the bag in the front seat and surveyed the area before I retrieved it from the charger. The screen lit up with a text notification.

Daredevil: Serves you right.

I laughed at his snarky reply. He hadn't been gone half a day, and I missed him. But I still owed him a big ass prank for sending John to find me.

Pocketing my phone, I grabbed the bags and locked the car. Ever since the car had been vandalized, I'd been hyper-aware of my surroundings. If we could catch the asshole who'd done it, maybe we could save some other person thousands of dollars in repairs.

GQ planned to set John up with a vehicle but gave him the keys to Dare's Tahoe until the dealership had one ready. All the vehicles in our growing fleet had a special communications package, as well as bulletproof glass. It was something Jesse insisted on since we may be transporting clients. I thought it had to do more with how Nate died, but I didn't bring it up.

Climbing the stairs to the condo, I dropped the bag to the ground before I reached the door. A black-and-white photo was held in place by a survival hunting knife. The image of me jogging alone down by the waterfront had a red "x" across my face while the knife was placed through my chest.

Momentarily surprised, I whipped my head around, but luckily the setup of the floor plan left no place for anyone to hide. Careful not to touch the door handle, I quickly unlocked the door and swept the bags inside out of the way with my foot.

Closing the door, I made sure the lock was engaged, then headed to the kitchen to find a plastic bag.

With one in hand, I went to get my gun and tucked it into the waistband of my track pants. Opening the bag, I turned it inside out and opened the door. Checking the area outside the door, I covered the knife handle with the bag and jerked it out of the wood. The picture remained attached to the deep gouge in the wood, so I carefully used the plastic to remove it. Carefully, I maneuvered it into the bag and zipped it closed.

After a quick assessment of the damage, I went back inside, making sure to lock the door. Striding to the kitchen, I tossed the bag on the counter as unease crept up my spine, taking away my appetite.

Reaching back for my gun, I took it out of the back of my pants and placed it on the granite countertop. My first response was to call out to Daredevil, but I was alone. And suddenly, I'd never felt more so in my entire life.

I opened the cabinet that held all our cookware, placed the bag inside the largest pot, and covered it with the lid. Then I slid it to the back of the cabinet. I didn't want John to see it when he came in, because it was none of his concern. I wouldn't drag him into the mess I'd created.

Calling GQ should have been my first reaction, but whoever had left that left it for me. Not Daredevil. Not EHM, but me.

I was a motherfucking Navy SEAL, and I could take care of myself. Now my priority was to figure out who had it out for me, but also to protect my brothers from whatever shit I'd caused.

Picking up the bags, I unloaded them and put the food in the refrigerator. Maybe I'd eat when John got home, but right now, nothing appealed to me.

Shaking it off, I put my key in the door and entered the apartment. It was quiet as I'd expected. I was a grown man but hated the quiet. It reminded me how alone I was. So I went for the remote and turned on the TV to the Sports Channel for background noise.

Before heading to the shower, I sent Dare another text.

Me: You sent him to me, didn't you?

All I needed him to do was admit he'd done it before I fucked with his stuff. But the asshole still wasn't replying.

Me: You just wait.

Three commercials later,, and he still hadn't replied, so I tossed my phone on the counter and headed for my room. Needing to shower, I pulled up my shirt but stopped when I smelled John's cologne. Ripping it over my head, I buried my nose into the spicy scent that would forever remind me of him. He'd worn it that night in Vegas, and I'd never forget it. His scent had been all over my skin and the bed the next morning. Even though I didn't remember how we'd gotten to my room, it was evident he'd been there from the smell alone. And I wanted it all over me now.

I tossed my shirt on my bed and headed into the shower. My dick was a damn battering ram, and I needed some relief.

Stroking myself gently, I turned on the water and waited for it to warm up. My usual supplies were waiting for me, and when the water was ready, so was I.

Stepping into the oversized shower, I rinsed my body from head to toe before moving out from under the spray. I grabbed my lube and squirted it directly onto the mammoth that protruded from the tile wall. Running my hand and fingertips over the veiny textured dildo reminded me of John's big dick.

I smeared the excess lube around my opening, then turned to back myself onto it. It soon gave way to the pressure as I impaled myself an inch at a time, the raised veins of the silicone setting off my nerve endings.

When I was fully seated, I stroked myself as I adjusted the angle to hit my favorite gland. My pleasure was cresting, so I bent forward, braced my hand on the wall, and let my hips do the work.

I called his name over and over in my head, recalling the memories from the first time we fucked until I covered my hand and the shower wall. The release was euphoric, but the high didn't last long.

Fucking hell, I could not let him affect me like this. He didn't want the arrangement I offered, so that was that. It wouldn't take long for me to get over that whole thing.

After soaping up my dildo and washing away all my cum, I washed my hair and body, then got out.

When I was dressed, I made my way back to the kitchen to pick up my phone and keys. Before turning off the TV, the commentator was going on about how this might be Alex Hayes' last season with the Pirates. I guess Dare would have the scoop when he got back from his trip with Greer.

Flipping off the TV, I headed out the door, resigned to get on with my day.