Alibi by Nicole Edwards

Chapter Twelve

Three weeks later

Thursday, February 11, 2021

Reese had known that offering a rewardto the public would result in an overabundance of crap sightings of Juliet Prince.

What he hadn’t expected was to have spent the past three weeks chasing one lead after another only to come up with absolutely nothing. Every single time they had what sounded like a legit sighting, they investigated. And so far, they’d done nothing more than harass innocent people.

The calls had died down significantly in the past couple of days. They’d been prepared for that, too, realizing there would be a heightened sense of awareness in the beginning, when the story was hot, but eventually the buzz would wear off. With each passing day, people were forgetting about the reward, moving on with their lives. Eventually they would stop looking for the woman whose picture had been flashed on the television and social media for several days, asking for any information leading to her whereabouts.

If he was being honest, it pissed him off.

Now as he stood in the shower, his head down, the heat of the water beating over his tired muscles, Reese tried to relax. He needed to regroup, to come up with a new plan. Juliet Prince was out there. It was just a matter of pinpointing where. No one could hide forever, regardless of how determined they were.

He must’ve been so lost in his own head that he hadn’t heard Brantley come into the bathroom, because it wasn’t until he felt the man press up against his back that he even realized he had company.

“You’ve been in here a long time,” Brantley said, his arms banding around him, palms flattening on his chest and pulling him back.

Reese leaned into the hard body, letting Brantley keep him upright.

“You’re thinkin’ too much.” Brantley’s voice was low, guttural. “I can help with that.”

“Can you?”

The hands pressed to his chest slid lower, gliding over his stomach, down, down.

Reese groaned softly when Brantley teased and tormented before finally fisting his cock. His touch was featherlight but more than enough to awaken every nerve ending in Reese’s body.

Tilting his head to the side, he gave Brantley access to his neck as warm lips caressed his skin.

He let himself be touched, enjoyed the attention, admired the confidence he felt in Brantley’s movements. The man could bring him pleasure unlike anything he’d ever known. He found it interesting how the rest of the world could fade away, even if only for the briefest of moments. Nothing else existed except for the two of them. Right here. Right now.

Reese turned in Brantley’s arms, needing to solidify the connection. He palmed Brantley’s head, pulled him closer until their lips fused. Leaning into the tiled wall, he let that kiss take him to new heights, enjoying the way Brantley explored his mouth. Always seeking, always searching, as though there was something new to find.

Reese’s hands wandered, gliding over slick skin. He was content just like this, although his body was prepping for more, his cock throbbing incessantly, the need for release igniting.

Brantley never pushed, his hand continuing to stroke Reese’s cock. Up, down. Slow, steady. It was enough for Reese’s heart to beat harder, faster, his breaths rasping in and out of his lungs.

Then the kiss broke and Brantley’s forehead rested against his, but his exquisite touch never disappeared.

“Come for me,” Brantley whispered as they both watched what Brantley was doing to him.

Reese groaned, his fingertips digging into Brantley’s hip as he held on, fought the insurmountable pleasure for as long as he could until…

“Fuck,” he groaned low in his throat, knees turning to jelly as his release barreled through him.

And then Brantley’s lips were back, his tongue leisurely sliding into his mouth as he came down from that incredible high.

“I love you,” Reese whispered, needing Brantley to hear the words, to know he meant them.

Brantley pulled back, their eyes met, and what he saw sated Reese on a different level.

“I love you, too,” Brantley whispered. “More and more every single day.”

Those words … they were his anchor, even when he didn’t realize he needed one.

*

Not wanting to go home to anempty house, Trey decided to go to Moonshiners. It wasn’t that he necessarily cared for a beer, but it seemed a better option than going to the diner alone. It sucked to eat dinner by himself, whether at a restaurant or at home.

He’d spent the better part of the day with the task force, listening as they berated themselves for not being able to find one woman despite all the information they’d received in the past few weeks. He felt their frustration, mirrored it even, but for the life of him, Trey didn’t know how to fix this. He didn’t know how to get them what they needed so they could end this once and for all.

Then Brantley had suggested everyone go home and sleep on it. To get some rest so they could come back tomorrow with renewed purpose.

Trey knew sleep wasn’t going to happen because it had eluded him for weeks now. He was running on adrenaline and fucking hope, neither of which was sustaining him.

So this was the only option.

When he walked in, he saw Mack was behind the bar, and the familiar face relaxed something inside him. It seemed Mack was working less and less these days, shifting responsibilities to Rafe Sharpe. Sure, Trey liked Rafe, but he wasn’t the man they’d come to expect to be there, the one who would listen to their bitches and moans because that was his role as the small town’s bartender.

“How’s it goin’?” Mack greeted, his eyes both friendly and concerned.

Being that Mack was married to the sheriff, Trey figured he was up to speed on the case.

“Slow,” he said truthfully.

“Beer?”

He nodded as he took a seat, gave the room a cursory glance.

There weren’t many people in tonight, just a couple of old-timers sitting around shooting the shit, a guy and a girl back at the pool tables laughing and making eyes at one another.

Okay, so it turned out this wasn’t much better than sitting alone at a table for dinner. For whatever reason, he’d thought there would be a few more people than this out tonight. What with Valentine’s Day coming up and all, surely he wasn’t the only sad, lonely soul seeking a little bit of company.

“Thanks,” he said when Mack passed over his beer.

Before Trey could strike up a conversation with the bartender, the door opened.

He looked up as he took a sip, and instantly the brew went down a little harder.

There, strolling in and cutting a path right to the bar, was Magnus Storme. He greeted Mack with a smile and a nod, then motioned toward the end of the bar where Trey was seated.

Surely he wasn’t—

Yes. Yes, he was coming to sit down right next to Trey.

“Hey.”

Trey took another drink, not bothering to offer any pleasantries.

The smirk that formed on Magnus’s too-handsome face said he was amused by Trey’s obstinance.

“Why’re you here?” Trey finally blurted after the silence began suffocating him.

Magnus glanced at him sideways. “Didn’t realize it was an invitation-only place.”

“Are you stalkin’ me now?”

“Yes,” Magnus said matter-of-factly. “Yes, Trey, that is exactly what I’m doin’. I’ve been hangin’ outside local watering holes waitin’ for you to make an appearance so I could pounce.”

“You’re an ass.”

“I am, sure,” Magnus agreed.

So fucking agreeable.

“Why’re you really here?” Trey demanded.

Magnus glanced around as though checking to see who might be listening. The only other person within earshot was Mack, and he was currently typing something on his phone.

“I’ve decided I’d like a rematch.”

Trey snorted. “Yeah? And what makes you think I’m interested?”

“Are you sayin’ you’re not?”

Trey wasn’t prepared for that comeback, and the moment of silence was enough to give the impression that, yes, he was interested, which meant he had to lay it on thick.

“Not a chance. I told you. One night.” He gave a light shrug of his shoulder. “Wasn’t good enough the first go-round to warrant another.”

Damn it if that didn’t seem to amuse Magnus. The fucker chuckled softly.

“Keep tellin’ yourself that.” Magnus leaned in. “But we both know it was the best fuck either of us has ever had.”

Trey took a long swallow and stared at the back wall of the bar. He was not going to comment, nor would he give away any facial expression that might confirm that statement.

As far as he was concerned, it didn’t matter how fucking good that night was or how many times Trey had relived it in his dreams or used it as fuel for taking the edge off with his own fucking hand. He was not interested in a relationship, and as far as he was concerned, more than one night constituted something more.

Nope, he had every intention of remaining celibate. Even if it killed him.

Which, based on the tightness of his jeans at the moment, it very likely could.

*

Magnus could practically feel the tension comingoff Trey, and he didn’t have to be a genius to know exactly what he was thinking about.

Same thing Magnus had been thinking about for the past month and a half. Ever since that night when he’d followed Trey home from the bar, then ended up half-naked, on the bed, both of them too hot to think of anything but the next kiss, the next touch.

Honestly, that night he’d figured Trey would back out, back down before they ever got that far. He’d seen it in the man’s eyes during their initial encounter when Magnus had interrupted what had appeared to be an argument between Trey and Cyrus. Something in Trey’s eyes had warned him he should proceed with caution. He’d felt Trey’s desire, knew he couldn’t deny there was something between them, but at the same time, Trey had a desperate need to be defiant, to go against his own desires. Someone—Cyrus, maybe—had hurt him and he’d been licking his wounds, protecting himself.

Magnus had proceeded with caution, telling himself he could help. After all, he wasn’t looking for anything and he certainly wasn’t looking to hurt him.

Didn’t mean he would love Trey or want more than a brief fling. He wasn’t that man, didn’t look to the future. At the same time, he didn’t pretend not to want what he wanted. Magnus lived in the moment and never, ever took anything for granted. There was nothing to say it wouldn’t be ripped right out of your hands with your next breath. He’d learned that lesson early.

But that night… He still remembered every kiss, every touch, but most often, he relived it so he could enjoy Trey’s dominance one more time. And he wasn’t lying when he said it’d been the best sex he’d ever had.

He took a long pull on his beer, stared at the wall as the memory flashed once again.

Magnus focused on the weight of Trey’s body grinding against him in all the right places, the warmth of his skin beneath his palms.

“Christ, you taste good,” Trey rumbled, his lips trailing down Magnus’s jaw, his neck.

“Fuck.” He palmed Trey’s head, holding him close so that wicked mouth moved over him, so skillful, so determined.

Unfortunately, Trey slipped away, getting to his feet, ending the moment abruptly.

Magnus shifted on the bed, angling for more space while he watched Trey in the dim light provided from the hallway. A soft click was followed by a warm yellow glow highlighting the sexy man so that Magnus no longer had to squint to admire.

“Better,” Trey said, his eyes still on Magnus.

Oh, yeah. “Definitely better,” he agreed, smiling.

He watched as Trey toed off his boots, stripped off his jeans and socks, leaving him in only the ass-hugging black boxer briefs that did little to hide the thick shaft tucked beneath.

“So much better,” he said on a long exhale.

One thing Magnus knew for sure, Trey might consider himself old, but his body was still in prime condition. Lean and defined with a set of rock-hard abs that made Magnus’s mouth water. Every move was a perfectly choreographed shift of sleek muscle and sinew beneath smooth, taut skin.

He made sure Trey saw the heat in his gaze as he eyed every delicious inch the man revealed.

Magnus jerked his chin toward Trey’s hips. “Might as well lose those, too.”

Trey’s eyes glittered, a smile forming as he teased him, lowering his underwear and revealing his rock-hard cock. Magnus admired the way he fisted his erection, stroking slowly, eyes never leaving Magnus’s face.

Magnus didn’t have to pretend to be appreciative. The man’s cock was glorious. Long, thick, with a slight curve and a wide head currently glistening with pre-cum, proof he was as excited for what was about to happen as Magnus was.

Although it would’ve behooved him to stay where he was, to wait to see what Trey had in store for him, Magnus wasn’t the sort to wait for things to come to him, not even sinfully delicious men whose eyes gleamed with passion.

Without haste, he sat up on the bed, scooted to the edge, then quickly eased to his knees on the floor in front of Trey. He heard the hitch in Trey’s breath when he slowly wrapped his fingers around his shaft while he stared up at him. Opening his mouth, he stuck out his tongue, then dragged the wide, glistening head over it, earning a hiss from Trey.

Magnus maintained eye contact as he teased with his tongue, outlining every ridge, learning the shape of him before taking him into his mouth. Trey’s beautiful cock was soft as silk and hard as steel. So. Fucking. Hard. Trey’s cock pulsed against his tongue, as strong and steady as the man himself.

This was going to be so damn good.

Trey’s hand shot to his head, palming it firmly. “Fuck.”

And when Trey took control, holding him in place, pumping his hips, Magnus gave himself over to the pleasure of it. He relished the velvety flesh that slid over his tongue, sucking and licking just to hear the sounds Trey made.

Trey inhaled sharply, held tight to Magnus’s head, hips pumping rhythmically as he fucked Magnus’s mouth. All the while, Magnus watched him, his goal to give Trey all that he needed, all that he wanted in this moment. And seeing him like this … uninhibited, wrapped up in the pleasure … it made him ache for things he hadn’t ached for in a long damn time.

“Christ Almighty … that mouth … fuck.” There was strain in Trey’s voice when he added, “Not yet, Magnus. Not yet.”

A little disappointed when Trey stopped him, Magnus sat back on his haunches, stared up at the man, waited.

He didn’t have to wait long before Trey was gripping his arm, manhandling him to his feet, then shoving him back on the bed. He landed with a bounce, laughing as the breath shot out of him even as Trey began to unbutton Magnus’s jeans, yanking them down his hips.

He had never had such a forceful lover and he couldn’t deny he liked it. A lot.

The laughter died the instant Trey’s mouth circled his cock.

Magnus’s back arched, a bellowing groan slipping out as pleasure unlike anything he’d felt in a long damn time consumed him. And then it slowed, morphing into something that kept his skin prickling, his spine tingling as Trey worshipped his cock. Magnus shifted, eager to watch as those succulent lips glided up and down his shaft.

“Fuck, you look good like that.” He slid his hand over Trey’s hair but didn’t attempt to hold him. He simply wanted to touch, because the sensations were so powerful he feared, if he gave himself over to them, he’d come before he was ready.

While he continued to suck, Trey worked Magnus’s jeans down his legs. He tried to help, but it was futile. He was trapped, overwhelmed by the pleasure, so he left the chore of stripping him to Trey.

When he was finally naked, Trey joined him on the bed, his hand replacing his mouth as he stroked firmly, keeping the tension coiled tightly within.

“Definitely taste good,” Trey said, leaning in until their lips collided again.

Magnus rolled so that he was on top of Trey, tongues thrashing, bodies grinding together. To his surprise, Trey didn’t buck him off. No, those big, rough hands gripped the backs of Magnus’s thighs and held him there, cock gliding against cock. The air raced out of his lungs as the friction sent shards of exquisite pleasure darting down his spine.

He was dangerously close to the pinnacle when Trey rolled them again, this time knees settling between his thighs, shoving his legs wide, cool air gliding over his skin when their chests parted.

“Trey…”

“Is that a warning?” Trey chuckled, nipping his lower lip.

“Fuck. Me.”

“I plan to.”

“Now.” Magnus sucked in a rush of air when Trey’s cock grazed his taint.

Had they not needed protection, Magnus would’ve welcomed Trey inside him right then and there. Screw the lube, screw all common sense, he would’ve taken the man inside his body. He was that fucking desperate to be used by him. It was rare for Magnus to get so caught up in someone, especially during sex, so it took him by surprise just how willing he was.

Luckily Trey was still sane, because he was off the bed in an instant, padding naked out of the bedroom. When he returned, he was carrying a strip of condoms and a bottle of lube.

Magnus had enough time to ease his heart out of the dangerously-close-to-exploding range, watching as Trey ripped open a condom, rolled it on, then crawled back onto the bed, lube in his hand.

“You sure you’re up for this?” Trey asked, kneeling beside him.

“Do your worst,” he goaded.

Trey’s eyes were dark in the dimly lit room, but Magnus could see the glint in them as he pumped the lubricant into his palm, stroked himself with one hand.

Christ. This was going to fucking hurt. He knew it, and part of him hesitated. It had been too damn long since he’d bottomed for anyone.

“Turn over,” Trey said, smacking his thigh.

Magnus tried to hide his hesitation as he slowly rolled onto his stomach. He didn’t have much time to be reluctant, because Trey gripped his hips, jerked him back so he was on all fours. Fully expecting Trey to ram inside him, he braced himself, locking his elbows, gritting his teeth. That was the very reason he cried out when Trey didn’t thrust into him with his cock but rather his tongue.

“Oh, fuck,” he hissed, his chest crashing to the bed as the pleasure made his limbs weak.

When was the last time he’d been rimmed? Hell, he couldn’t remember, but fucking hell, it felt good. Too good. He moaned in earnest, cock throbbing as pleasure assaulted him.

It went on and on, but not nearly long enough before Trey’s mouth slowed.

“You ready for me?” Trey asked, his words darkly erotic as his lips trailed over Magnus’s ass cheek.

Magnus found he was rocking, forward, back, desperate for more as cool liquid ran down the crack of his ass. The chill on his overheated skin made goose bumps appear but he welcomed them. He was a riot of sensation, dangerously close to sensory overload.

When Trey pushed a finger inside him, Magnus’s cock swelled, his balls tightening as sparks ignited along his spine. It had been so long since…

Trey wasn’t rough, but he wasn’t gentle. He fingered Magnus with skill and attention. It was heaven and hell at the same time, too much but not enough, exquisite yet terrifying.

And Magnus never wanted it to stop.

“Oh, fuck … Trey … oh, fuck.”

That finger remained inside him, pumping slowly, but Magnus was aware of Trey shifting behind him. Another finger pressed inside, scissored, causing a bite of pain that was quickly overridden by pleasure.

“More,” he pleaded, knowing he was too damn close to the edge.

Trey’s fingers disappeared, then the pressure of his cock against his hole became his only focus. Time seemed to slow as the tension mounted again, fear of more pain took over, had his muscles locking. He didn’t even realize he was doing it until he felt Trey’s breath against his ear.

“Relax. Let it feel good.”

If only.

Trey’s lips glided over his shoulders as the weight of him covered Magnus, forcing his upper body flat to the mattress. The reprieve gave him time to breathe, time to pull himself back from the brink even as he anxiously awaited Trey’s next move.

“You wanna feel my cock inside you?”

Magnus nodded.

“Tell me.”

“Yes. God, yes.” He relaxed as Trey shifted and moved, his cock aligning once more, but this time he was pushing in slowly, gently, stretching him wide as he filled him.

“So tight,” Trey groaned. “You feel so fuckin’ good, Magnus. Too fuckin’ good.”

The pain … it was there, but it was manageable. To the point Magnus focused solely on the pleasure, the feel of Trey on top of him, the choppy breaths he was taking as he sank in deeper.

Trey retreated, pushed in. Shallow strokes meant to torment, Magnus knew. He did that until Magnus was breathing hard once more, panting and eager. When Magnus groaned Trey’s name, the man thrust his hips forward and drove in as deep as he could.

A guttural groan escaped him, followed by another as Trey began rocking his hips, burying himself impossibly deep. Only when Magnus was begging for more did Trey comply. Next thing Magnus knew, he was on all fours, Trey pounding into him from behind, again and again, his fingers curling over Magnus’s shoulders as he held him firmly in place.

Trey grunted, groaned, and continued to plow into him. Magnus’s muscles locked as the pleasure—so intense it was damn near painful—had him shouting Trey’s name as that mounting tension came dangerously close to shattering.

“Fuck,” Trey hissed. “Come for me, Magnus.”

He did. A storm of sensation overwhelmed his body and mind, had him groaning low in his throat as his orgasm ripped right through him.

Before the electrical storm waging war inside him could settle, Trey slammed into him one final time and growled his name in a way that had Magnus praying there would be a round two.

Back in the present, Magnus downed the rest of his beer. His entire body was hard, aching and desperate for the release he’d found that night. He hadn’t found it since, despite numerous attempts.

Glancing over at Trey, he saw the man was watching him. And if he had to guess, Trey was reliving that night right along with him.

Magnus knew there was only one way to handle a man like Trey Walker.

“Take me home with you, Trey,” he said, his voice low, eyes serious. “What do you have to lose?”