Iris (Mike Bravo Ops 1)

“I’m going to—” My words are cut off as my balls draw up tight and pleasure unfurls from my cock.

I tremble on top of him, trying with all my strength not to crush him under my weight.

Iris reaches between us and jerks himself until his head falls back against the headrest, and his lips part, letting out a long, low moan.

Then he pulls me to him, and my body gives out.

I lie on top of him, my head in his shoulder, my chest rising and falling in quick, short bursts.

Iris’s hand travels down my back, and I enjoy the sensation until I realize—

“You’re wiping your cum on my shirt, aren’t you?”

“Maybe. But also …” He doesn’t finish his sentence.

“Also, what?”

“I don’t know about you, but instead of curing me of my adolescent crush, hooking up with you has only made me want you more.”

“Me too.”

Iris takes a deep breath. “I think we need to tell Trav.”

Orgasmic high, gone. Just like that.

“Why?” I ask.

“Because we can’t keep doing this without telling him, and I’m nowhere near done with you.”

He has a point, but what are the chances Trav would let us keep doing this if we told him? One of us could be fired, and we both know it would be me.

Am I ready to give up the only life I’ve known for a chance with Isaac Griffin? The class clown? The guy no one took seriously back when I knew him?

As I stare down at his beautiful features, the resounding answer is yes. Even if it’s scary, and I have no idea what my future looks like without Mike Bravo. I could do something with my engineering degree, I suppose, but it’s not my calling.

Iris’s eyes suddenly widen, and his hand flies up to his ear. “Shit.”

Panic claws at my throat. “What?”

“Uh, it’s for you.” Iris takes out his earpiece and places it in my ear.

There’s some static, but then it settles.

“Now that you two are done, how about you make your way back to headquarters so we can have a chat.” Trav’s voice is like ice.

“You weren’t on mute?” I yell at Iris.

“I was,” Trav sings. “See you boys soon.”

I take out the earpiece. “Fuck.”

I am so fired.

Chapter Nineteen

Iris

The drive back to headquarters is long and quiet. I want to reassure Saint, but I have no idea where to start. It’s not like I can tell him everything will be fine because I’m not sure it will be.

Trav has rules for a reason. He trusts us to follow them and come to him if we ever have a problem.

I should’ve told Trav after the first time Saint and I hooked up, but I truly believed it wouldn’t happen again. The want was still there, but I thought I had it under control.

One thing today has taught me is I have nothing under control. Not when it comes to Saint.

When we pull up to Trav’s place, there’s a familiar SUV taking up space outside. The car is still running, bright red taillights glowing in the dark.

“Isn’t that …” I point. “Is that the same SUV that was trailing us?”

“What’s it doing here?” Saint asks. “Did it follow us and somehow beat us here?”

“Did you really just ask that? How would it know where we were going?”

I park Trav’s Range Rover where we usually park our own cars, and as we get out and get closer to the door, I can’t help laughing at the loud voice reaming Trav.

“What is it?” Saint asks.

“That guy at the hotel? Rodriguez? You know, the one who’s not Trav’s boyfriend, the one who couldn’t have been following us?”

“Yeah?”

I gesture to the figure in the open doorway, and as we get closer, Rodriguez scowls at us.

Then he turns back to Trav. “Your guys almost blew my cover. I’ve been on Hameel’s tail for the last three months, and then you come swoop in and screw it all up.”

Trav smirks. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I didn’t have any guys at Shores hotel.”

“I never told you which hotel, jackass, and these two were there.” He thumbs in our direction.

Trav folds his arms across his impressive chest. “Maybe you’re seeing things, Rogue-riguez. Those two have been fucking all afternoon. I should know. I heard it. I tell you, you want to be really traumatized? Try listening to your subordinates dirty talk to each other.”

Saint hangs his head, but I can’t look away from Trav and Rodriguez’s fight. It’s like watching two animals perform an elaborate mating ritual.

“I’ve told you not to call me Rogue,” Rodriguez says through gritted teeth.

Trav’s smile widens. “I’m still waiting for the day you’ll go rogue for me … again.”

“Never going to happen.”

“We’ll see. Now, if you’re done yelling at me, do you mind if I reprimand these two over here?”

“You’re impossible.” Rodriguez turns on his heel to march back to his car.