Dangerous (3 page)

“So…you want me for a job? That’s why I spent the night? You and I—we didn’t…”

Ken’s eyes sparkled with humor. “I was wondering when you’d get around to asking.”

He strode up to Brady and gripped a handful of sheet in both hands and twisted so it tightened around his hips. He could feel the heat from Ken’s body wrapping around him just as tightly. Holding him captive. “You don’t remember the things you admitted to? The things you offered? Nothing?”

Brady swallowed hard. Hell. “No.”

Ken whistled, drawing Brady’s attention to his pursed lips. “Too bad. What you said made it nearly impossible for me not to pick up where we left off the last time I saw you. And when you asked me to help take off your clothes—”

“Damn it, Tanaka.” Brady grabbed one of Ken’s wrists in rough warning. “Don’t dick around.”

Bad choice of words. Ken’s bringing up the last time they saw each other only made his current state of arousal harder to ignore.

Ken on his knees, sucking your cock.

Brady’s fingers flexed in memory and Ken bit his lip. “Mmm, I do love that strong grip of yours. Brings back memories. You know, if you weren’t so disgusted by kink I might think we shared an interest in noncon, but sadly, you are as vanilla as a gay Irish Marine can be.”

Brady dropped his wrist a little too quickly. “What the hell is noncon?”

Refusing to release him, Ken gave him the kind of smile Lucifer must have worn the moment before he fell. “Consensual non-consent, Finn. A little game where one of us pretends to resist while the other forces us to take it. To love it.” He licked his lips and Brady suppressed another shiver of awareness. “Shame, really. You’re big enough to be a challenge and I have a thing for muscle-bound gingers who talk too much when they drink.”

Damn.
“Tanaka—”

“Yes, I know, I know. That one party scarred you for life and the subject is off the table forever. For the record, you slept alone last night. I was on the couch in case you needed me, but I’ll sleep in the bed in my office if you decide to stay.”

That was the answer he’d been waiting for. Ken had slept on the couch. They hadn’t given in to desire and ripped each other’s clothes off. Why was Brady disappointed?

“Here’s the plan, Finn. You’re going to take a shower and think about what you want to do. Stay with me and help someone that no one else can, or go home and deal with your family’s expectations. Either way, your duffel is at the foot of the bed and there’s a clean towel and packaged toothbrush for you in the bathroom.”

Ken released him and took a step back. “I’ll have breakfast waiting when you’re done and we can talk about what you’ve decided.”

Brady let the dictatorial tone slide as he thought about his options. Home or Tanaka. Judgmental concern or dangerous temptation. He could always take door number three, he knew. Just leave. Go somewhere with the money he’d inherited from his mother and start again. Alone.

Shower. Right now he just wanted a shower. “I appreciate it. This. All the trouble you’re going to.”

Ken turned away and his long black braid swung with the motion, striking Brady’s side. “Don’t thank me again, Finn. Just say yes.”

He wanted to. He studied Tanaka’s tattooed back with hungry eyes and wanted to agree to anything he asked. The strength of his desire scared him. It had from the moment they met.

Without his self-control he’d have nothing. That was why, if he were a smart man, he would say no to the job and get the hell out of there. Being around Ken Tanaka made him unpredictable. Tempted him to let go and give in.

He swore under his breath and headed toward the shower. Last night proved he wasn’t that bright. One evening of drinking was all it had taken to alienate family, nearly embarrass them all online and go home with the one man he most wanted to avoid.

He was never drinking again.

“Tanaka?” Brady walked out of the bedroom buttoning his jeans, his black shirt thrown over his shoulder. “Am I dreaming, or do I smell bacon?”

He was starving. Whatever was in that nasty swamp remedy, it had done the trick. If he hadn’t watched the video with his own eyes, Brady could almost convince himself he’d never gotten drunk at all.

He saw a covered plate with a Post-it note beside it.
Taking an office call then grabbing a shower for myself. Eat.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Brady saw the carafe of orange juice and poured some in a large glass with ice before carrying it and his plate to the living room. He’d been here before, though he’d spent most of his time across the hall in Tanaka’s office—basically a studio apartment filled with computer towers, monitors and the kind of surveillance equipment that would make any super spy envious. 

Ken didn’t just own a downtown loft in a refurbished three-story warehouse—he owned and lived in the entire building. The first time Brady followed him here and saw his living space, he’d wondered aloud if the Scottish-Japanese technophile wanted to be Batman.

“You already have the lair, the finances and the right equipment,” he’d said.

“Why do you ask? Do you have a fetish for rich men in masks?” Ken asked, smiling that angelic smile.

“I don’t have fetishes,” Brady responded quickly. “But he isn’t my type. He’s got a cave full of baggage and relies on toys instead of natural talent. Give me Superman any day.”

Tanaka’s expression had changed, a flash of irritation mixed with hunger. “He’s got plenty of natural talent,” he’d muttered before changing the conversation back to the Finn family’s Burke problem.

Sitting on the leather couch, Brady set his glass on the coffee table and dug into his vegetable omelet and crisp bacon while studying the loft with fresh eyes. It was big enough to fit a car inside and still have room for a party. So much open space for one man, though the way it was laid out created the feel of several rooms without the use of hallways or closed doors.

The man who hacked into other people’s private lives obviously didn’t feel the need for his own privacy—either that or his decorator was one of those Peeping Toms from the club. There wasn’t even a door to his bathroom, just frosted glass blocks forming a partition between it and the living room.

That had given Brady pause…until he’d experienced the shower itself. It seemed to be made with his six-foot-five height and wide frame in mind. A rain showerhead sprouted from the ceiling, rather than the wall-mounted type that usually hit him squarely in the chest, and there was plenty of room to turn around. By the time he’d finished, he was considering staying and doing the job for the shower alone.

And that bed… Brady was not a small man, but he’d only taken up half the space on a mattress that was exactly firm enough and covered with sheets that felt like fluffy damn clouds. The mattress and the frame had to be custom made, since for the first time in his life his feet didn’t hang off the end. Call him Goldilocks, but that bed was just right.

He could only imagine what Ken needed with a bed like that. Orgies came to mind. Kinky, BDSM free-for-alls with plenty of lube and restraints to go around. His cock twitched at the thought of Ken and lube, and Brady frowned down at his empty plate, wishing he hadn’t eaten so fast. The food had been delicious and eating would distract him from thinking about sex.

Why did Tanaka have to be so damn perfect at everything? Cool computer genius, athletic martial artist, super sleuth, master chef and—according to Tasha and Owen—king of all things rope related. But those two had no idea where his true talents lay.

Brady exhaled and set down his plate so he could adjust himself through the snug denim as he thought about Ken’s wickedly skilled mouth. He’d had his first taste of that skill at Burke’s. They’d caught each other in the act, both snooping around somewhere they didn’t belong. Brady had set out to test Tanaka, to make sure he wouldn’t run to Burke to tell him the senator’s body man was in his private office. Faster than he’d expected, the casual interrogation had become intimate and laced with sexual innuendo. Before he knew it he was leaning against the desk and Ken was devastating him with his mouth, undoing his pants and leaving Brady too stunned to respond.

It still shocked him when he thought about it. How he’d been drawn to him like a magnet to metal from minute one. Tasha interrupted them just in time and he had to be grateful. One more taste of those talented lips and taunting tongue and Brady would have had Ken Tanaka right there on the floor, without knowing or caring that they were both on the same side. Both working for the feds to trip up their host.

He’d tried to steer clear after that, shaken by his own behavior, and then everything had gone to hell. Tasha ran away and Stephen lost it, and all Brady wanted to do, all he could think about doing for weeks, was fixing it. Luckily, Ken had the same idea.

A few months later the two men were being hailed as conquering heroes at the reunited couple’s wedding reception. Brady hadn’t wanted the attention but Ken had loved it, spending the evening pressing up against Brady each time someone wanted a picture. When the photographer asked for a shot of Ken and Brady with the bride and groom on the dock, Brady had seen Ken whispering in the grinning Tasha’s ear. A few minutes later all three men were in the lake and Tasha had gotten her favorite snapshot of the wedding. She’d actually had it framed and placed on her fireplace mantle.

It was right after that—when Ken followed Brady into his room for a change of clothes—that things had gotten personal again, just as quickly as it had happened before. One minute they were laughing and tugging at their wet jackets, the next Brady was shoving his soaked shirt in his mouth to mute his passionate shouts as Ken knelt in front of him and swallowed his cock.

Brady groaned and the sound echoed through the open loft. Thinking about the things Ken had done with his tongue, with the muscles in his throat, brought Brady instantly to the edge.

He was in a bad way. Maybe it was time to take a page out of his younger brother Rory’s playbook. Rory Finn never went to bed wanting. When he was on duty, he was the best EMT in the city, focused and indefatigable. He took his extracurricular activities just as seriously. If he saw a man he wanted—old, young, doctor, lawyer, waiter—he was relentless. Fearless.

For Brady, sex needed to mean something. Even before he’d enlisted and hook-ups got more complicated, he’d never been big on one-night stands. He’d always wanted more. But he hadn’t been with anyone in over a year—not since his ex went career instead of accepting his discharge. Marine-for-life meant no building a life together. In hindsight, that surprisingly unemotional break-up had been the right call, making his decision to come home a few months later a hell of a lot simpler. But it didn’t help him with his current predicament. At this point if he didn’t get over himself and find someone to sleep with soon, he would lose his fucking mind.

There’s someone right across the hall.

Unable to resist, Brady reached for the oddly-shaped remote on the coffee table and pushed a button, opening the floor-to-ceiling cabinet to reveal multiple monitors. One was tuned into a local news channel, but the rest were for personal security.

Ken had pointed this out the last time he was here. “You called me Batman?” he’d laughed. “Here’s another toy.”

Tanaka had cameras installed in his office, the gym that took up the entire second floor and an atrium that took up the first—a green, peaceful paradise complete with a hammock and a koi pond guarding the service elevator. Brady shook his head. He should have gone into computers instead of the family business—a career in freelance hacking was clearly more lucrative.

Brady focused on Ken’s office chair. That was where he
should
be, but the chair was empty. He rotated the small toggle that looked like it belonged on a videogame controller and watched the image change as the camera panned to find its target. It passed a line of laptops and flat-screened monitors and a small kitchenette that was cluttered with computer parts. When it had gone as far as it could, it was pointing directly at a clear glass wall dripping with water from another overhead shower.

“
Jesus
.”

What the hell did the man have against solid walls and doors?

Ken was facing the camera, and the glass did nothing to hinder the view. Brady shuddered. Heaven help him, but the view was too beautiful to resist. Ken stretched like a cat as the water flow over every lean, coiling muscle in his body. He tilted his head, his long braid wrapped in a masculine bun that made his neck seem more vulnerable. Brady wanted to scrape his teeth along that flesh. To mark it.

Ken’s hand slid down his smooth, hairless body to the hard cock between his legs, and Brady couldn’t resist unbuttoning his own jeans to join him.

He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t be doing this at all—watching. Invading someone’s privacy. He wasn’t some pervert who got his kicks peeping in windows. Hell, he didn’t even watch porn or go to strip clubs. He never got the point of purposely paying to watch and want something he’d never be allowed to touch. But when it came to this man, he couldn’t look away.

Did Ken know his camera could point in that direction? Did he know Brady was watching him stroke himself in graceful, fluid motions as if performing for his lover? As if he had all the time in the world?

“Too slow,” Brady whispered. “Don’t tease me.”

His own fingers were clumsy and rough on his thick, sensitive shaft. He pulled it out and gripped it firmly in his fist. He wanted to be in that shower. Wanted to be standing behind Ken, or sitting on the bench against the wall and lowering that body onto his cock. Wanted to drive him wild until he was begging Brady to come. “Beg me, Tanaka.”

Ken arched his back as if he’d heard him, his fist shuttling faster up and down his length.

“That’s right. Fuck, that’s perfect.” Brady matched his rhythm, his eyes unblinking as he memorized every detail of the scene. He swore and shook his head when Ken’s movements slowed, but then he realized the man on the screen was reaching for a bottle of clear liquid. Lube?