incident?”
Maddock was onto him, and he nodded with a knowing smile. “I’ll get on that now. As soon as you find anything else out, you let me know immediately.” He started to leave, then paused, jutting a finger at him. “And get a haircut.”
“Yes, sir.” Sloane gave him a salute. Damn. That meant he had at least another week before he had to get it cut. He hated getting his hair cut. His gaze went to Dex who was grinning at him.
“What?”
“You’re so cute, sending a letter so Allan and his team don’t get canned.”
Sloane hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt. “Allan and his team did great. They don’t deserve to lose their jobs because a bunch of pencil pushers need someone to blame. I mean you saw how many guards there were for a building that size, and with everything else going on, it’s clear they’d made cutbacks. Security’s always the first department to suffer. While poor Allan joins the ranks of the unemployed, some asshole buys a second house on the coast of France.”
Dex leaned forward, his voice gruff and sexy. “Ooh, do I hear a little anti-establishment in your tone, Agent Brodie?”
With a chuckle, Sloane came to sit at the edge of Dex’s desk. He leaned forward to whisper, “Does that turn you on, Agent Daley?”
Dex gave a snort. “That would imply there are moments when I’m not turned on. Okay, well, in this job there actually are moments when I’m not, but if our lives aren’t in danger and you’re around, it’s a safe bet I’ve got a stiffy.”
Sloane arched an eyebrow at him.
“Okay, sometimes even when we are in danger.”
“That so?”
“You gripping an MP5 submachine gun, sweat dripping down your face, your tac pants pulled tight over your ass when you crouch down? Fuck, I’m getting hard thinking about it. Come on, man. I’m positioned behind you in formation, and you think my mind’s not going to go there? It’s your own fault.”
“Jesus, Dex. We’re at the office!” Sloane hissed.
“You asked.”
Sloane shifted uncomfortably, his pants tighter than they’d been a moment ago. “Yeah, but… now you’ve got me… you know.”
“So….”
“So what?” Sloane eyed him warily. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting? Because we’re in the middle of a case.”
Dex’s pale blue eyes clouded, the heat in them going straight to Sloane’s dick. “We are in the middle of a case. A case with intel that won’t come in until tomorrow morning, or tonight at the earliest.”
Sloane swallowed hard. “Ten minutes?”
Dex grinned wickedly. “Ten minutes.” He stood, his fingers brushing Sloane’s thigh as he walked past.
This was insane. Sloane couldn’t believe he was doing this at work. He’d never done anything with Gabe at work, not even sneak a kiss. Then again, Gabe had been a stickler for the rules, too afraid of what would happen if they’d been caught. Dex… well, Dex was a terrible, sexy—fuck, he was sexy—influence. Then again, the only time their sergeant ever suspected something was amiss was when Dex wasn’t up to his shenanigans.
If Dex wasn’t eating snacks when he shouldn’t be, or singing in the showers, or bugging Ash, or Cael, or anyone with a pulse, Rosa was whipping out her thermometer and taking his temperature, convinced he was coming down with something. Two days ago, Dex had been straining his little blond head trying to work out a riddle Sloane had given him, and the whole floor almost went into lockdown from panic due to his prolonged silence. Their Medical Chief, Hudson, had gone so far as to insist he examine Dex, though now that Sloane thought about it, he was pretty sure Hudson might have been taking advantage of the situation. The guy was always eyeing Dex’s ass.
Sloane waited five minutes then casually slipped out of the office, heading for the moderately sized lunchroom on their floor. After greeting the half a dozen or so agents who were in there, he tapped the
Maddock was onto him, and he nodded with a knowing smile. “I’ll get on that now. As soon as you find anything else out, you let me know immediately.” He started to leave, then paused, jutting a finger at him. “And get a haircut.”
“Yes, sir.” Sloane gave him a salute. Damn. That meant he had at least another week before he had to get it cut. He hated getting his hair cut. His gaze went to Dex who was grinning at him.
“What?”
“You’re so cute, sending a letter so Allan and his team don’t get canned.”
Sloane hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt. “Allan and his team did great. They don’t deserve to lose their jobs because a bunch of pencil pushers need someone to blame. I mean you saw how many guards there were for a building that size, and with everything else going on, it’s clear they’d made cutbacks. Security’s always the first department to suffer. While poor Allan joins the ranks of the unemployed, some asshole buys a second house on the coast of France.”
Dex leaned forward, his voice gruff and sexy. “Ooh, do I hear a little anti-establishment in your tone, Agent Brodie?”
With a chuckle, Sloane came to sit at the edge of Dex’s desk. He leaned forward to whisper, “Does that turn you on, Agent Daley?”
Dex gave a snort. “That would imply there are moments when I’m not turned on. Okay, well, in this job there actually are moments when I’m not, but if our lives aren’t in danger and you’re around, it’s a safe bet I’ve got a stiffy.”
Sloane arched an eyebrow at him.
“Okay, sometimes even when we are in danger.”
“That so?”
“You gripping an MP5 submachine gun, sweat dripping down your face, your tac pants pulled tight over your ass when you crouch down? Fuck, I’m getting hard thinking about it. Come on, man. I’m positioned behind you in formation, and you think my mind’s not going to go there? It’s your own fault.”
“Jesus, Dex. We’re at the office!” Sloane hissed.
“You asked.”
Sloane shifted uncomfortably, his pants tighter than they’d been a moment ago. “Yeah, but… now you’ve got me… you know.”
“So….”
“So what?” Sloane eyed him warily. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting? Because we’re in the middle of a case.”
Dex’s pale blue eyes clouded, the heat in them going straight to Sloane’s dick. “We are in the middle of a case. A case with intel that won’t come in until tomorrow morning, or tonight at the earliest.”
Sloane swallowed hard. “Ten minutes?”
Dex grinned wickedly. “Ten minutes.” He stood, his fingers brushing Sloane’s thigh as he walked past.
This was insane. Sloane couldn’t believe he was doing this at work. He’d never done anything with Gabe at work, not even sneak a kiss. Then again, Gabe had been a stickler for the rules, too afraid of what would happen if they’d been caught. Dex… well, Dex was a terrible, sexy—fuck, he was sexy—influence. Then again, the only time their sergeant ever suspected something was amiss was when Dex wasn’t up to his shenanigans.
If Dex wasn’t eating snacks when he shouldn’t be, or singing in the showers, or bugging Ash, or Cael, or anyone with a pulse, Rosa was whipping out her thermometer and taking his temperature, convinced he was coming down with something. Two days ago, Dex had been straining his little blond head trying to work out a riddle Sloane had given him, and the whole floor almost went into lockdown from panic due to his prolonged silence. Their Medical Chief, Hudson, had gone so far as to insist he examine Dex, though now that Sloane thought about it, he was pretty sure Hudson might have been taking advantage of the situation. The guy was always eyeing Dex’s ass.
Sloane waited five minutes then casually slipped out of the office, heading for the moderately sized lunchroom on their floor. After greeting the half a dozen or so agents who were in there, he tapped the
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