Tequila Mockingbird (Sinners #3)

“Kiki have any leads? On anything?” Forest rubbed at his nose, scratching an itch.

“No, not yet,” Connor admitted. “No one’s seen anything. Biggest problem is that your places there have so many different people coming in and out of them, people don’t know who belongs there or no. And we can’t find a nosy old lady who watches the street with binoculars. Those are mighty handy a lot of times, I tell you. They’re a dying breed. Now they’re all out doing spin classes and the such.”

“Then we’re shit out of luck?”

“No, they’re going through the footage from the bank, and they’ve tapped another feed from down the street. The Canadian couple didn’t see who ripped off their van, but we’re hoping someone else did. Kiki’s arranging for interviews around the motel they were staying at. A lot of it is leg work.”

“I feel like a sitting duck or something.” He was bitter, and Connor didn’t blame him. “Fucking hell.”

“Hey, we’ll find him.” He kissed Forest, gently but insistent. “The bastard’s leaving a trail of dead bodies, and I’m not scared to admit it, but I’d rather you not be one of them. We’re all after this guy. Boys in blue are going to nail his ass. Pissed us off something fierce.”

Forest stared into his eyes, searching for something. Connor was content to let him, enjoying the feel of the man’s hard body against his. His own cock was debating going to a full-blown salute, and from the press of heat he felt on his thigh, it appeared Forest’s dick was of the same opinion.

They kissed again. Deeper, longer, and their bodies rubbed together, creating a lingering friction between them. Connor sighed after a few minutes, wondering if he had the strength to get up off the couch and take a cold shower.

He should have been the reluctant one, the untried man in a game he’d only just joined, but his body seemed to know exactly what his heart wanted—what his soul thirsted for. There were times he’d imagined he’d go mad with the wanting of Forest, and then there were times when he was certain he already had.

“What are you thinking about?” Forest’s voice was soft, but there was a heat to it, a lingering promise to go with the seductive thrust of his hips as he shifted beneath Connor’s weight.

“I was thinking I should feed you.” Damn if he didn’t want the man. As terrifying as it’d seemed not more than a month ago, Connor needed Forest in a way he couldn’t begin to describe. “Are you hungry?”

“Sorta. I don’t want a sandwich,” the blond murmured, reaching up and tangling his fingers into Connor’s hair.

“Sandwiches are what I brought there, boyo,” Connor teased.

“Yeah, they’ll hold. It’s kind of not what I’m hungry for right now.”

“What are you hungry for, then, a ghra?” His heart was trying to break its way out of his rib cage, and Con scolded its silliness. He wasn’t some fumbling teenager in the back of his father’s car. He’d had sex before. Hell, wet, sloppy sex in places he’d be kicked off the force if someone’d caught him, but bending over Forest, being held in close by a tug of the man’s fingers and having their breath mingle together touched off a chain reaction in Connor’s body he’d never dreamed could happen. “What do you want, then, Forest love?”

Forest dragged him down, forcefully pulling Connor in until their mouths touched, and whispered, “You, Connor. I want you so fucking bad.”





Chapter 13





You ever miss living at home, Con?

Fuck no, a ghra. You know what it’s like living in a madhouse? I’m fine here with you.

Kinda be cool. You’re never alone, you know?

The shouting. Having to find a free bathroom. Worst part about it? I don’t think I could have sex in my parents’ house. Too odd.

Okay, here it is.

—Conversations in the Family Room



“YOU SURE?” Connor had to whisper, because if he spoke any louder, he’d shatter the crème br?lée sugar sweetness of their kiss. His cock was ready, heavy and ponderous between his legs. The department-issued uniform was made of thick, durable black fabric, but his dick seemed to have plans on breaking right through the weave.

If he’d had any question about being attracted to Forest Ackerman, it was certainly gone now.

Connor tried not to think of all the times he’d had a woman beneath him. Forest deserved better than that, but the comparison was still there—maybe it would always be there, but then, he thought, it didn’t really matter. Not so long as he found pleasure and gave it back tenfold.

And pleasuring Forest was the only thing on Connor’s mind at the moment.

The differences were startling. For some reason, he’d imagined Forest’s skin to be rougher or coarser to the touch. Instead, what he could feel under his shirt was soft, a silken landscape his hands glided across as he reached beneath the cotton fabric.