Trick Montgomery wanted a look at the guy who was forcing him to blow his cover. After three long fucking years of intensive investigation, the Feds had to wreck it. For a bureau neophyte who was trying to earn his big-boy wings, and because they couldn’t fucking wait for Trick to complete his deep cover work to file a report. No, they had to pull him out early and get the information now.

He tossed back the last of his Jack Daniels and propped heavily against the bar on his forearms. Trick turned his head to the left, checking out the cluster of suits at the stand-up table nearby. One of those guys was Nathan Rohn. With his luck, it would be the pretty one with the dark hair and lean body. Or the gangly, freckled redhead who lacked body control.

The men had taken off their coats and pushed up their sleeves. It was the businessman equivalent of a woman letting her hair down. Trick liked muscular arms and thick male wrists, liked long strong fingers wrapped around beer mugs. Looking at the table, he grudgingly had to admit that the Feds had outdone themselves in recruiting attractive men.

One of the guys came up to the bar. “Hey, Ned. Another round from the tap.”

The dark-haired kid grinned widely and slapped down some bills. He looked around, leaning against the bar as he waited. His eyes met Trick’s, and for a moment, Trick was lost in the brown depths. Wide and prominent, they drew him in, tempting him to look longer, deeper.

“Hey,” the kid said, his smile broadening when Trick didn’t balk from direct eye contact.

“Hey.” Trick let his gaze drop appreciatively down the length of the man’s body, then nodded toward the cluster of suits the kid had detached himself from. “After work blow-off?”

The younger man laughed, his gaze following the direction of Trick’s nod. “You could say that.”

The way his eyes twinkled with humor meant the other man had picked up on his double meaning.

“As far as circle jerks go, this one’s less than satisfying,” the Fed murmured before returning Trick’s watchful gaze.

“That can be fixed,” Trick suggested. And maybe while he was fixing it, he could get a bead on which one was fucking with his career.

“Can it?”

“Ned,” Trick said without taking his eyes off the man-boy. “Make sure that table gets their round. Junior here has to use the bathroom.”

Ned snorted, “You got it.”

Trick stood, took a few steps backward toward the private hallway behind the bar. He lifted a brow. “You coming?”

“Monty,” Ned called to Trick.

Trick waited for Ned to continue. Instead, the bartender tossed him a small silver packet. Trick caught and examined it. A condom. He chuckled. Ned saluted him and returned to filling the last of the beer mugs.

The kid’s attention lingered on the condom with a look of pure wickedness. “I’ll follow you back as soon as I deliver the drinks.”

“No hard feelings if you change your mind, but…” Trick added, “don’t. Don’t change your mind.” He left the main bar and eased around to the dark corridor. It paid to know the barkeep, he thought with a feral grin.

Out of sight from the customers, Trick folded his arms across his chest and stood against the exit used only in the event of a fire. A minute later, the Fed’s body blocked the low light.

“Back here,” Trick called.

The man approached. Trick liked the way he moved. It was a little bit swagger, a little bit lope. It lacked the confidence of a man who’d been in his skin awhile, but it was strong enough not to hesitate in meeting a stranger in a dark hallway. Since it approached him, it was the sexiest stride Trick had seen in a long while.

When he was within arm reach, Trick grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall. “You sure about this? I don’t want you crying foul, later.”

The younger man grinned. “Absolutely,” he said as he grabbed a handful of Trick’s crotch. “Shut up and fuck me.”

Trick laughed. The kid had grit. He appreciated that. He flipped him to the wall as the Fed quickly undid his own belt and pants. Trick yanked them down to expose the full swell of supple ass glowing in the dimly lit corridor. He unzipped his own fly and quickly smoothed the rubber over his engorged cock, then spat several times into his hand to rub roughly on the Fed’s hole.

“Do it,” the Fed breathed, his cheek shoved hard to the wall.

“It’ll be rough.”

“I’ll like it just fine. I’m not waiting all night. Fuck me now or miss the opportunity,” the younger man said.

Trick needed more room. He pushed the restricting pants down the other man’s legs and kicked his feet apart, cop-style. He had the sudden misplaced urge to read him his Miranda rights while he shafted him. Trick bit back the impulse with a grim smile. He pushed his cock-tip in, pausing when the Fed shuddered at the invasion.

“God, you’re huge,” the kid proclaimed.

“Changing your mind?”

“Hell no.”

Trick took the man’s dick in his hand, gave him a few well-practiced yanks, and plowed his hips forward until Trick thought he’d take the kid to his limit.

The Fed gasped. He seemed to like the size of Trick in him. The kid pushed back, trying to take more than Trick had given him.

Trick growled against the man’s ear. “Gonna fuck you so hard, you’ll see stars.”

Trick added a twist to each upward stroke of his hand on the other man’s cock, being as rough as he dared without hurting him. Then when the kid started to thrust his hips back, Trick began the urgent race to find orgasm. It was there, just in his reach. The other man added his own brand of enthusiasm, reaching around to pull Trick’s hips against him.

Trick’s balls rocked, the swinging weight of them adding to the spiraling warm tingle that curled the base of his spine.

“Make it fast,” the kid said.

Trick understood. They didn’t need anyone coming to look for them. He bucked hard, slamming into the Fed’s tight hole. He nuzzled the man’s neck, inhaling his scent. The musty smell of office air and daylong clean skin wrapped an invisible hand around his senses. As effective as cupping his balls, his orgasm leaped nearer.

The man stiffened, choking on a cry as cum sprayed over Trick’s hand. It was enough. Trick muffled his pleasure against the Fed’s neck, sucking desperately as hot jets shot into the condom, deep inside the man’s body. Trick jerked a few more times.

“More satisfying than an after work beer?” Trick asked roughly.

The Fed laughed through heavy breaths. “I’d take you back to my place for more, but I don’t take strangers home.”

“Nah, you just let them fuck you in public places.” Trick held the condom when he withdrew and slapped the tight ass he’d just claimed.

The man turned, tucking himself away and righting his clothes. “Do you come here often?”

Now the kid was nervous? “All the time until recently. Does that pickup line work for you?”

The Fed laughed. “First time using it.”

Trick smiled widely. He closed his fly. The stood close enough that he knew the man could see the dim glow of teeth. “I wouldn’t try using it again. Fuck me was far more effective.”

“I’ll remember that.”

The Fed leaned in like he meant to kiss Trick. Trick dodged.

“Never kiss a convenience fuck,” Trick told him. “It makes you look inexperienced.”

The other man lifted his chin stubbornly. Or was it determination that Trick saw in the motion?

“I’m surprised you went for this,” Trick admitted. “You’re the kind of guy that looks like forever.”

“And you’re the kind of guy that looks like he’d rather eat pussy,” the kid shot back.

Trick grinned again. “I guess I am something of a bear.”

“I didn’t think bears migrated this far south.”

Trick threw back his head with a hearty laugh. “Points to the suit with a sense of humor.”

The kid pushed away. “If I see you in the bar again, do I meet you in the private hallway?”

“Yeah,” Trick murmured. “Yeah, you do.”

“Even though you think I’m a forever kind of guy?”

Trick shifted his weight. Guys that were prone to relationships were the kind of men he generally stayed away from. This one felt different. This one left him with a sense of warmth behind his sternum that he hadn’t felt in a while.

“Even then,” Trick agreed.

Now the Fed laughed. His was lighthearted and almost mocking. “I’m a back-hall fuck, Monty. You don’t find your forever man in a seedy city bar. You find STDs. You find release, but you don’t find relationship material.” He walked backward. “If I see you here again, I’d fuck you. I’d even enjoy it, but I wouldn’t take you home to mama.”

Trick snorted, feeling a weird sense of pride for the kid who handled himself like a man. “You got it, kid. Happy to oblige your ass any time.”

“Nathan. The name’s Nathan Rohn,” he tossed back as he exited the corridor.

Trick winced. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”