Full Disclosure (Nice Guys 2)

Mitch stared at him.

“What?” He felt the weight of Mitch’s gaze on him as he watched the road.

“I like you more and more every time I’m around you,” Mitch said quietly, and that made him smile. He grinned, staring out into the night, keeping an eye on the road. “How much longer until we’re home?”

“About twenty minutes, give or take.”

“Do you mind if I sleep?” Mitch asked.

“No, go ahead. The headrest bends in.” He motioned behind his head to show Mitch.

“Fancy,” he said, lying back, resting his head on the headrest. Mitch appeared to have passed out within seconds of reclining. Cody found he drove a little slower and a bit more carefully, letting Mitch sleep longer. He pulled his truck through the gates of the community parking garage in the back of the complex and parked. Mitch never woke up.

Cody contemplated his next move. He slid his hand across Mitch’s thigh, unprepared for Mitch’s hand to reach out and grab his. Mitch kept his eyes shut, his breathing even, looking very much asleep, but slid their entwined hands up his thigh, covering his dick, using his hand to help Cody massage him right there.

“I’ve been dreaming about you,” Mitch whispered. “See? You’re even in my dreams.”

“I dream about you too,” Cody confessed, stroking Mitch on his own now. Mitch sat forward, barely opening his eyes, and moved until he reached Cody’s lips. He kissed him good and long, almost climbing over the console to get to him. No matter how awkward the position was, Mitch kept Cody’s hand on him, massaging his rock hard erection.

Cody thought he heard the words, I need you. He wasn’t sure, but Mitch’s brute force had him now pulled across the seat, on top of the console, almost in Mitch’s lap. The kiss turned frenzied in a matter of seconds. Mitch’s tongue made love to his mouth at the same time his hands roamed across his body.

“Inside,” Cody managed to croak out. “Let’s take this inside.”

“I’ll suck you here, if you let me. No one will know.” Mitch somehow managed to slide his fingers in the waistband of his jeans.

“Inside.” Cody broke free of Mitch’s hold, only getting a foot or so away before Mitch was on him again.

“I hate when you deny me. You do it far too often,” Mitch grumbled.

“I don’t think I do it enough,” Cody teased, and Mitch went for his lips again. Cody dodged the move. “Come on. Inside.”

Cody awkwardly got out of the truck, making sure to untuck his shirt before going any farther. He prayed he didn’t see anyone going up the elevator. There was no way to hide the hard-on filling his jeans.

“Stay over there,” he commanded as Mitch rounded the truck. Mitch didn’t listen and came for him, pushing him against the side of the truck and kissing him like he’d never been kissed before. Mitch consumed him in that swirl of tongue, lips, and teeth. When Mitch came up for air, Cody wasn’t certain he was holding himself up, and without question, the roll of his hips, matching Mitch’s, was completely involuntary.

“Now, we know what’s what. Take me upstairs and make love to me,” Mitch said, lifting Cody’s chin until he stared into Mitch eyes. The raw passion he saw reflected in their depths filled him with need. He leaned in and swiped his tongue across Mitch’s lips.

“God, you’re killing me,” Mitch groaned. “Come on.”

~~~

Mitch had no idea where he was going. The passion they’d just experienced had Cody tucked in next to him as they followed people inside the building. Mitch caught the door before it closed while Cody pointed in the general direction the others had walked. The elevator dinged and Mitch moved them toward the noise.

“Hey, man.” Mitch heard a masculine voice say. He saw the elevator doors being held, and he pushed Cody forward, getting them inside as the buzzer sounded.

“Thanks,” Cody said, reaching for the ninth-floor button, but the guy got to it first. So he knew Cody. Mitch eyed him as he leaned back against the elevator wall and Cody stood next to the guy.

“Eastfield’s in town,” the guy told Cody. Instead of concentrating on whether the guy was in law enforcement or whether he was straight or gay, Mitch’s interest perked upon hearing the name of that organization. This was the first confirmation he’d heard they were here.

“For sure?” Cody asked. Good boy, Mitch thought. Suddenly he wanted Cody questioning the guy until they had all the answers.

“Yeah. They’re causing problems downtown tonight. I had to go in. I’m surprised you didn’t get called.”

“I’m off through Sunday. So they’re here for the Derek Sinacola’s funeral?” Cody asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Mitch decided the guy worked in law enforcement too.

“Yeah, talking shit all downtown. They love to get people riled up,” the guy said.

“I’m attending the funeral tomorrow,” Cody replied, somewhat quietly.

“I volunteered to work it tomorrow. Be careful, man.” They gave a quick fist bump before he got off on the third floor.

“It’s wrong what they do,” Mitch said, the lust of a moment ago fading quickly. In its place, a sick hollow feeling twisted in his gut. He believed in freedom of speech, he absolutely did, until it crossed the line to hate. The ding signaled their arrival on Cody’s floor a moment before the doors opened. Cody extended an arm, pulling Mitch forward, drawing him out.

“We aren’t worrying about that church tonight. We’re finishing what you started downstairs. Then you’re gonna get a full night’s sleep, and we’ll get up early and head over to the Sinacola’s first thing in the morning. Besides, for every one Eastfielder, there will be four people there supporting the Sinacola family. Law enforcement will cover that by themselves,” Cody stated, fishing the keys from his pocket.

“I hope you’re right.”

“I know I am. I’d be there too, if I wasn’t going with you,” Cody said and opened the door to his apartment. Mitch walked inside, a little impressed. The clean, small loft-style condo perfectly represented Cody with a mix of Western, modern, and classic. Mitch smiled as Cody’s arms came around his waist and his hard cock pressed against his ass.