IGNITE

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CAIN

Letting Ezra grind himself to orgasm in my office was wrong.

So why can’t I get it to stop replaying in my head? I don’t have time for a relationship. Don’t like the idea of the messy emotions that come with it.

But I do want to fuck Ezra.

The moment the elevator doors dinged closed last night, and I found myself alone in the office, I took out my aching cock and jacked off, coming in record time and hard enough to nearly black out on my desk.

I’d jacked off again in the shower when I got back to my apartment, too wrapped up in the thoughts of all the depraved things I wanted to do with Ezra to go straight to bed.

Ezra likes it rough. Needs it that way. And I enjoy dominating my partner. We’d be an electric match in bed. Doesn’t mean we should end up there.

Sitting behind my desk the next morning, my focus is still absolute shit. The ticking of my watch has me biting through the skin on the inside of my cheek, a habit I haven’t given into in years.

Aiden used to scold me for doing it in public, especially when he would drag me out to ridiculously expensive restaurants to “show me off”. The clinking of silverware and the banging of doors was enough to set me on edge, tricking my brain into thinking we were surrounded by threats.

I was fresh out of the military. I hadn’t been prepared for the fair-haired, fit guy across the bar to make a move. But Aiden had been incredibly charming and talkative. He made me feel alive, when most of the time, I felt empty. And when I wasn’t empty, I was angry.

Gripping my pen tighter, I tap the end on my desk. Work needs to get done. We need to track down Gabriel. Figure out what he’s selling in those shipping containers and what he’s hiding on that drive that’s taking Alaric far too long to crack.

I’ve dealt with crime lords before. However, this all feels above Gabriel’s level. Thugs like him don’t hide things well. They get off on spreading fear, working in such large numbers the police prefer to avoid involvement. Hell, he wasn’t even on our radar until recently.

My phone buzzes on my desk. I ignore it to finish up an email to a new client, but whoever is texting me is persistent. I pick it up and swipe through my lock screen, nearly slamming my phone down on my desk when I scroll through the pictures Rev’s been sending me.

The first one is of him and Ezra together. Rev’s holding up his hands in a peace sign, and Ezra’s got his tongue sticking out. I stare at Ezra longer than I should, thrown off by how truly gorgeous he is.

The second picture… did they fucking cut up one of my t-shirts? I bought Ezra a whole new wardrobe. Why does he continue to wear my stuff?

Although, I can’t really complain about glimpsing more of Ezra’s flawless, tan skin. Half the length of the shirt is missing, showing off his toned abs in mid-crunch on the gym floor. He’s in fucking boxers, too.

He doesn’t fucking listen.

Gonna work this pretty boy into a sweat, Rev’s text reads.

Immediately, I swipe into my contacts to call Rev and bitch him out, but that would just play further into whatever game Rev thinks he’s winning.