#quakebones

She hesitated, but she went to him and he wrapped her in a warm, comforting hug. “Brock will he fine, sugar. He’s too fucking stubborn to die. He’s gonna walk in that door any minute with some smartass remark which’ll make you want to smack the smug grin off his face.”

Skye laughed against his shoulder, but it was a little shaky, and Alvey tightened the embrace. “You should give him something to worry about.”

“Like what?” Skye frowned, puzzled.

“Well, if he walked in that door and saw me bending you over the weight rack, I bet he wouldn’t make such a smart remark.”

That made her laugh… but it also made her aware of Alvey again, of the heat and strength of him, the way he even smelled like Brock. Made her think about the last time they’d used his gym as a safe house.

“Alvey…”

“Or I could just put you down on the training mats and eat you out. Keep your mind off worrying about him.”

She squirmed a little. Her nipples had peaked to hard points and his filthy suggestions had wetness welling between her thighs. “Alvey.”

“Because seeing you again, I can’t stop thinking about the last time we had sex.”

She looked up to meet his eyes, which was probably a mistake. There was heat in his gaze as he looked down at her.

“Brock could always join in when he gets here,” Skye said slowly.

“I have no doubt he will.” Alvey’s fingers came up to smooth her hair back from her face, gather it at the nape of her neck. A sudden sharp tug bent her back over his arm, and then he was leaning over her, licking a long line from the hollow of her throat up to her chin.

The small pain as he pulled her hair made Skye go instantly limp. Alvey didn’t loosen his grip as he kissed the corner of her mouth, then licked back down again, going lower this time, into the open neck of her blouse.

“Get this off.” Abruptly he released her. “I’ll get some protection. And a toy or two.”

Her hands shook as she unbuttoned her blouse, discarded it and her jacket onto the bench outside his office door. Alvey came back out and nodded to see her sitting down removing her boots.

“Over here, once you’re naked,” he ordered, heading over to the heavy weights rack. Skye couldn’t see what he was doing, with his back turned to her, but she could hear a clinking noise. Obediently, she finished undressing and walked barefoot across the gym to Alvey. He raked her up and down with his gaze, his smile approving.

“Hands here,” he said, and Skye gulped as she saw the handcuffs lying open, waiting for her. Alvey liked it kinky, she thought. Though Brock liked to experiment, he also just enjoyed a long slow lovemaking session in a bed; somehow she didn’t think that was quite Alvey’s style. She had to bend forward over the weights rack for Alvey to click the cuffs onto her wrists and test them.

“Very nice,” Alvey said gutturally, one big rough hand smoothing lightly down over her buttock before he gave her ass a sudden sharp spank.

Skye squealed, startled, and craned her neck to look back at him over her shoulder, eyes wide.

“You think too much.” Alvey spanked her again. “Stop thinking and just let yourself feel.”

She moaned helplessly as he nudged her feet further apart, continued with the spanking, alternating strikes between her ass cheeks. Her nipples were hard and aching, and he seemed to guess, pausing the spanking to reach beneath her and pinch at them sharply.

“Want some clamps on?” His breath was hot against the back of her neck.

“Yes, please,” she whimpered, shuddering as he pulled hard on each nipple before letting go.

“You’re a horny little bitch, arncha?” The first clamp snicked shut and Alvey tightened the screw until she shuddered. “I bet there’s slick trickling down your thighs, huh? Bet you can’t stop thinking about how it’s gonna feel when I fuck you.”

Skye whimpered as the second clamp went on. Alvey was good at judging just how much she could take, she thought vaguely as the world started to fuzz around her. His fingers traced up her inner thigh, dipped lightly into her wet pussy. She moaned and pushed back against him, but he pulled away and smacked her ass again.

“Greedy. Not yet. I’ve still got more toys for us to play with.”

She heard the click of a cap, and then lube was trickling between her ass cheeks, followed by something cold… really cold.

“What the f…. aaaahhhhhhh.”

She couldn’t see it, but it had to be a glass butt plug, and one which Alvey had apparently been keeping in his refrigerator. He rubbed the tip through the lube only briefly before pressing it into her ass and twisting, driving the spiraled plug in slowly until he reached the widest point.

Skye was squirming wildly by then, cries spilling from her lips as she shuddered, overwhelmed by the sensation. Alvey held the plug still for a long moment before giving it a last little push to pop it securely inside her.

It was too much, the full, cold feeling in her ass combined with the pain from her clamped nipples. She struggled to center herself, unable to catch her breath properly, at least until Alvey’s hand smacked down on her ass once again.

“Focus,” he ordered, his voice gravelly. “Let everything else go. There’s only this.”

Her eyelids fluttered closed and her breathing evened out as he smacked her again, jolting the plug in her ass with each firm stroke, working her over until her ass was cherry red and soft cries came from her mouth with every breath.

“Good girl,” Alvey praised quietly, using his knee to widen her stance further. His next smack curved between her thighs, fingertips striking dead centre on her clit as the heel of his hand jolted the base of the butt plug. “That what you need?”

“Please,” she sobbed, “oh god, please, please, please…”

One more strike and she lost it, screaming and yanking against her restraints until Alvey stilled her with his hands on her hips. He waited until she was slumped against the weights rack, panting wildly, before letting go and stepping back.

Skye heard the rip and crinkle as Alvey opened the condom packet, and then he was holding her hips again, pulling her up to her tiptoes before pressing the tip of his cock into her soaked pussy, plunging deep with one rough thrust.

Incredibly sensitive, Skye cried out with renewed ecstasy… until suddenly her mouth was filled with thick, hot flesh.

Her eyes flew wide and she looked up to see Brock smiling down at her, his callused hands caressing her hair as his hips pressed forward, thrusting his cock deeper into her mouth.

“He’s been here about ten minutes,” Alvey said from behind her, in answer to Skye’s unspoken question as she gazed up at Brock. “Thoroughly enjoying watching you get your ass spanked, too.”

“Absolutely beautiful,” Brock agreed, his voice just a touch deeper and more gravelly than Alvey’s. “And nice job securing her at exactly the right height for this, too.”

She felt rather than heard Alvey’s chuckle as he thrust forward, pushing deep into her and shoving Brock’s cock deeper into her throat at the same time. Willingly, she opened her throat to take him deep, breathing through her nose. Alvey reached around her to tease at her clit, making a moan rise in her throat and Brock grasp as her throat vibrated around him.

With two deep voices praising her, two pairs of strong hands caressing her, two cocks thrusting into her (and the glass plug jolting inside her ass with every move Alvey made) it took Skye only moments to come back up to the edge of orgasm again and fall off, screaming around Brock’s cock. Alvey groaned and surged inside her, holding still at full depth, but Brock let her get her breath back before spurting into her mouth. She swallowed and licked him clean, gazing up at him through her lashes as he petted her hair and groaned her name.

Alvey withdrew first, gently removing the butt plug and walking away to leave the two of them alone together. By the time he returned, carrying the blanket from the back of his office couch, Brock had removed Skye’s nipple clamps and the handcuffs, was holding her close to him, murmuring loving words of praise against her hair as she clung to him.

Alvey put the blanket around Skye’s shoulders gently, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. “He’s right, you were wonderful, sweetheart. Such a good girl.”

“Thanks for taking care of her, Alv,” Brock said genuinely, without a hint of jealousy.

“Any time. Seriously. Any time.” Alvey smiled as Brock lifted Skye easily into his arms, wrapping the blanket around her as she began to shiver, coming out of subspace. “Always happy to take care of your girl.”

A slender hand reached out from the folds of the blanket, fumbled for Alvey’s hand. He gave it to her and held on, walking alongside her as Brock carried her to Alvey’s office couch. The brothers settled down, Skye snuggled tightly in between them. Alvey had already pulled the Gatorade out of the fridge and handed it to her, encouraging her to drink. She sipped obediently before pushing the bottle away and nestling deeper into their embrace, tucking her hands in under thickly muscled arms and holding on tight.

Including on his ass, which she’d been struggling to keep her eyes off all day as they toured the huge facility. Rumlow had a habit of jogging energetically up stairs, which gave her a quite extraordinary view of his ass in his tight combat pants. It was like watching  a pair of puppies fighting in a sack, she thought whimsically, biting her upper lip inwards to keep her laughter from bubbling up.

“So, I think that’s about everywhere,” Rumlow said finally, leading her back into the large kitchen and dining area adjacent to the individual Avengers’ apartments. They’d started off here, dropping Daisy’s bags off in the room she’d been assigned. “Think you can find your way around?” He reached for the Keurig, quirking an eyebrow at Daisy. She nodded, pointing out a capsule she wanted.

“I hope so. It seems pretty intuitively designed, anyway. Shame Stark didn’t install an AI.”

“Well, Vision’s normally here anyway, and there’s no AI even Stark could build which wouldn’t be vastly inferior and probably get on his last nerve. If he has nerves. Synapses? Circuits. I dunno.” Rumlow shrugged, and Daisy helplessly followed the ripple of muscle under his shirt. “Long and short of it is, we don’t need one.”

“Right.”

“Milk and sugar?”

“Hm?”

“In your coffee.”

Whisky-gold eyes glinted, and she had the feeling he knew exactly where her mind was.

“No, thanks.” She took the mug he slid across the gleaming granite counter to her, and took a seat at the breakfast bar. Rumlow took a seat beside her, his huge arm almost touching hers, and sighed as he took a sip of his coffee.

“Mm. Now that’s the good stuff. Far better than the shit which used to be always brewing in the percolator in the STRIKE ready room at the Triskelion.”

Daisy took a sip too, and mentally concurred with his assessment, even as she turned his statement over in her mind. Finally, she couldn’t help but ask.

Except, the words didn’t come out quite as she’d planned.

“So, apart from being sexy, what do you do for a living around here?”

Black eyebrows flew up, and then he laughed, a rasping, sexy crackle which would have made her feel weak at the knees if she wasn’t already sitting down.

“Well. I’m an undercover Avenger, of sorts. I’m still tied in with a whole bunch of criminal networks from when I was Fury’s man inside Hydra, and having my face publicly plastered over screens as one of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes is kind of the opposite of good tradecraft.”

“You could wear a mask,” Daisy pointed out.

“I do, when I go out on the kind of missions when they need everyone. I still try to stay away from cameras.”

“Crossbones,” she said with sudden enlightenment. The heavily muscled man in the black skinsuit and skull mask had been spotted a couple of times helping out the Avengers on major incidents; they’d called him ‘an ally’ in press conferences but said nothing more than that.

“At your service, Quake.” He lifted his mug in her direction.

Daisy smiled, taking another sip of her coffee. She almost snorted it back out her nose when Rumlow added;

“Getting back to the more interesting part of your question, so you think I’m sexy, huh?”

Daisy was pretty sure she’d turned an unattractive shade of magenta as she spluttered “It was… it was a slip of the tongue!”

“Freudian slip?”

Those whisky-gold eyes were laughing at her, Daisy thought dismally, feeling like a teenager all over again, one with a massive crush on the hot older guy who thought she was just a kid.

At least, until he leaned closer and whispered “Well, right back atcha, hot stuff,” and winked.

“Do the Avengers have any rules against fraternisation?” she blurted.

“No. I heard Cap actually wanted to put one in our code of conduct.” Rumlow grinned at her. “He was convinced not to push the point. Even he conceded that telling Natasha who she could and couldn’t sleep with was not conducive to his future health.”

“I can see that.” Indeed, telling the world’s best assassins anything about what they could or could not do was fraught with danger. As Secretary Ross had discovered, in a rather permanent fashion.

“So,” Rumlow added, “there’s nothing to stop us taking the rest of the afternoon off and adjourning to your room to break in that new bed of yours. If you wanted.”

She definitely wanted. Leaving her coffee unfinished on the counter, she rose to her feet and held out a hand to him.

Breathing hard, Skye finally wheeled her motorcycle to a stop in front of a dingy metal building. Frowning, she glanced back the way she’d come, the diner’s massive cow sign a smudge on the horizon.

“Really,” she muttered, turning her attention back to the-- shack. It was a really big, kind of dirty metal shack, and there was no getting around that. The sign was right, though. “R&R Metalworks.” And she had to admit, the pipe-and-wire creations decorating the walls were pretty cool. And the yard… well, it was a junkyard, but a pretty tidy one.

Skye lifted her ponytail with a sigh and rubbed sweat from the back of her neck. Wasn’t like there was much she could do unless she wanted to fix the piece of crap herself. Or call--

Wasn’t like there was much she could do.

She pushed the bike around the front, following the faint clanking noises until she reached the far side. The first thing she noticed was the rolled-up metal garage doors. Really! Who uses a metal building in all this awful heat?

The next thing she noticed was a stunning car. Painted a deep velvety red that bordered on black, it looked like it could have driven right out of His Girl Friday. Skye wasn’t even into cars and she kind of wanted to live in this one.

The last thing she noticed was the man working on the car, and once she did, she wondered how she’d ever missed him. Tall, with broad shoulders that were in no way disguised by the sinfully tight black shirt that clung to his muscles. A cart of tools hid the rest of him, but Skye instantly found herself wondering if his ass was as good as the rest. Then he turned.

Skye backed up a pace as his amber eyes locked onto hers, knee knocking painfully against her bike. She had to bite her lip against an impulse to sputter some kind of excuse or denial-- he doesn’t know you were looking! Get it together!

Her certainty faded a little, though, as the surprise on his face was replaced by a crinkle-eyed smirk. He pulled a rag from the tool-cart and wiped his hands as he sauntered over. Skye tried not to swallow her tongue. He moved like a--

Panther, part of her said.

Some kind of mangy, arrogant alley-cat she corrected, annoyed at herself.

“So,” he rumbled as he stopped in front of her, and oh god, his voice. “Problem?”

“No,” she snapped, “I wheel heavy hunks of metal around for the fun of it.” Oh god, why is he so hot?

Surprise flashed over his face again, and this time it wasn’t a smirk but a full grin that replaced it. The expression made him look downright boyish for a moment. “It’s mostly plastic, but I guess everybody needs a hobby, Miss--”

“Skye. Not miss anything, thanks.” She took a step back, something about that grin made it hard to breathe with him so close.

“--Skye. So what’s up with the bike?”

Skye threw up her hands. “If I knew I wouldn’t be here. It makes a weird noise and it doesn’t go anymore.”  His grin got even broader as she spoke, and she didn’t miss the glint of humor in his eye. “Hey, I do computers, not mechanics!”

He chuckled, a low noise that made goosebumps dance down her arms. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, a couple of hours and it’ll be good as new. Promise.”

Skye nodded uncertainly after a moment. “Right. Uh. Cost? And do you have a waiting room?”

“Won’t know ‘til I get into her. Not much a waiting room, but you can hang around if you like. Might take a bit, though, if you want to head back out. Diner’s open ‘til… eight, I think, but it probably won’t take me much past six.” He nodded his head to a pair of rickety-looking plastic chairs against the wall as he spoke. Skye eyed them with distaste. It was even hotter standing in the doorway of the building than it had been during the long walk outside; she could feel a bead of sweat winding a slow, ticklish trail down her spine.

“Wait-- you haven’t even looked at it! You can’t possibly know how long it’ll take!”

The mechanic threw her a wink. “Just grab a bite to eat at the diner and be back around six. Tell them Brock sent you, Marci’ll give you a discount.”

Skye took another step back, narrowing her eyes at him. Finally she decided to take his advice. Maybe leaving her bike here with a complete stranger was a terrible idea, but it couldn’t be any worse a one than sitting in a sweltering metal garage for five hours. At least the diner had AC, and this time she’d get to enjoy it for more than five minutes.

***

By the time Skye had trudged back to the garage through the late summer heat, a bank of low, gray clouds had slipped across the sky. Rather than providing any relief, they just seemed to be trapping the heat in, and dumping humidity down along with it. She was soaked in sweat when she rounded the corner into the metal building, but she stopped cold as she took in the sight before her. The mechanic-- Brock, try not to objectify him TOO much-- had stripped off that sinfully tight shirt and she couldn’t help but stare at the sweat-sheened shifting muscles in his back as he worked at something on the motorcycle. The muscles cording his arms flexed as he turned a wrench, and Skye couldn’t help but think about how easily he could pick her up and--

Bad Skye. Stop that.

She must have made some kind of sound without realising it. His movements stuttered to a stop and his head snapped up, giving her a look at his mussed hair, like he’d been running his hands through it, boy wouldn’t she like to run her hands through--

Stop!

She was blushing. It didn’t take the amused look on his face to tell her that, and the way it slid into a wolfish grin as he blatantly looked up and down her body didn’t help. Skye had to dig her fingers into her thighs to keep from crossing her arms over chest. Let him look, she told herself. Not like you weren’t getting your fill.

“So,” he said as he stepped back from the bike, “like I said. Couple of hours. Fifty bucks. You’re good to go, but you might not want to head out tonight.” He shrugged. “Clouds like that, you might find yourself in a hell of a rainstorm. Or not. This time of year you can never tell if they’re going to dump on you or not, honestly.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she muttered, dropping her gaze to the floor and moving toward the counter next to the sad little ‘waiting room’ chairs as she dug for her wallet. “You take card, right?”

“No,” he shot back, rounding the counter. He still hadn’t put a shirt on and Skye looked anywhere but directly at him as he tapped at the register. “This is actually 1816, we only take doubloons.”

Surprised laughter burst out of her, and she met his eyes without meaning to. His serious facade cracked into a smile a moment later. “Sorry, I spent them all at Tortuga.” She wiggled her credit card at him. “Visa?”

“You didn’t come prepared?” He clicked his tongue. “Shame. Well, I guess if I have to...”

Skye shook her head, still chuckling as she slid the card through the reader. The laughter faded as the machine responded with a harsh beep.

“Um?” Biting her lip uncertainly, Skye slid her card through again, only to be rewarded with the same sound and DECLINED scrolling across the display. “What? Hold on.” Yanking her phone from her pocket, she tapped rapidly at the screen until her bank accounts were front and center.

Checking: $-43.26

Savings: $0.00

“Oh my god,” she breathed. She scrolled down to her credit cards, tears stinging her eyes as she realized they were all maxed out. Every single one. Scrolling back up, Skye opened the details of her checking account with a sinking heart.

Withdrawal after withdrawal showed on the screen, each of the transactions listing the last four digits of her ex-boyfriend’s card.

“Miles,” she snarled, fighting back tears.

“...something wrong?” Brock tapped lightly on the wooden counter between them.

“My-- um.” Skye swallowed, setting the phone face-up on the counter. “It looks like my ex cleared out my accounts.” She took a deep breath. “I can’t pay you. I mean, right this second. Right now. I can’t pay you.”

An awkward silence hovered between them. Skye ducked her head, letting her hair fall into her face.

“You could always pay me some other way,” he said, voice pitched low. She jerked her head up, staring at him with wide eyes. She took one trembling breath and felt a tear slip down her cheek. His eyes widened and he backed up, waving his hands in front of him. “Shit! It was a joke! Shit, shit, don’t cry, I’m sorry! That was really inappropriate, I’m sorry. Look, just let me take a copy of your license and you can pay me after you sort shit out with that dickwipe that stole your money. Aw, fuck. Please don’t cry.”

As he spoke, Skye turned away, scrubbing furiously at her eyes. Stupid! She’d trusted that asshole to cut up his cards like he said he would. God, when would she learn? He was like a bad taste she needed to get out of her mouth--

--oh.

Skye rolled her shoulders back, wiping away the remaining wetness on her face as her tears abruptly stopped. Fuck Miles. She wasn’t going to cry over Miles. She was going to get the taste of him gone. “Ok,” she said.

“Uh,” Brock responded eloquently. “What?”

She turned back to him. “I said ok. You want to barter? We can barter.” She grabbed the hem of her shirt and yanked it off in one smooth motion, shaking her hair free and momentarily reveling in the slight relief of bare skin.

“Shit,” he breathed in a tone that bordered on reverential. The blush crawled back up Skye’s throat and cheeks, but she refused to let the embarrassment show. With the same determination she started unbuttoning her jeans. Brock watched her in a daze, eyes trailing the zipper as he slid it down. Then he shook himself and vaulted over the counter.

“You are absolutely fuckin’ sure?” He loomed over her, and his golden eyes bored into hers with an intensity that took her breath away. Skye’s fingers stilled. “You had better be one-hundred-percent goddamn sure, Skye, ‘cause if this is some kind of bullshit game of chicken, you can get the fuck out right now.”

Skye stared straight back at him, quirked her lips into a tiny smile, and pushed her jeans down. Brock closed his eyes, exhaling harshly and shaking his head. “Bad fuckin’ idea,” he muttered, and then she found herself lifted by an iron grip on her hips and deposited onto the counter. Brock yanked her jeans the rest of the way off with one hand while the other snaked up behind her back to unhook her bra.

“One-handed? That’s impressive.” Skye laughed lightly as he pulled the undergarment off her.

“Don’t know what kind of losers you been sleeping with, gorgeous.” He hooked his thumbs into the side of her panties. “You fond of these?”

Skye looked down. It was a nice pair, spring green with soft white lace that skimmed her thighs. They’d been a present from Miles. “Nah.”

She barely even felt it as he ripped them off.

Brock straightened up and moved back, drinking in the sight of her naked in his shop. “You look like a pinup,” he said, grinning wolfishly as her skin flushed. He stepped between her legs. “You really want to do this?” When she nodded, he slid his hands around her waist and leaned down to slip his mouth over one hard nipple.

Skye moaned, throwing her head back. His tongue was hot as it lapped over the peak before he sucked firmly. Her eyes fluttered shut and her legs fell apart almost of their own volition. Without removing his mouth he dragged a palm up her side, fingers grazing beneath her breast before reaching the other nipple and rolling it between finger and thumb. Skye moaned, the sensation sparking through her body in a wave of pleasure that settled as a rising, needy pressure low in her belly. His assault was merciless, tongue and fingers working in tandem until Skye thought she might come just from that. She slid her fingers into his hair, tugging impatiently until he released her nipple with a pop and followed her pull by dragging his mouth up her neck to whisper into his ear.

“Something you want, pinup?” His voice was a low rasp that went straight to the pooling heat in her belly.

“Kiss me,” she gasped, “and then--”

His lips crashed into hers. He kissed insistently, like he wanted to get as much in as possible before it stopped, licking into her mouth when she moaned. Hooking one arm around her waist, he yanked her off the counter without breaking the kiss until he was holding her flush against him. Skye flung her arms around his neck and instinctively wrapped her legs around him, grinding against the hardness that suddenly pressed against her core.

Keeping his arm locked around her waist, Brock worked his other hand between their bodies until he could press his thumb against her clit. Skye nearly screamed into his mouth as he circled around the sensitive bundle of nerves, followed by two fingers pushed inside of her. Brock kept kissing her through all of it, even as he crooked his fingers and she clenched around them. She couldn’t contain the scream now, pleasure shattering through her as she came apart in his arms. And he kept going, softening the kiss and then pulling away as he continued to thrust his fingers into her. Dragging his mouth back to her ear, he whispered roughly: “Come on, babe. Come for me again. I wanna hear you.”

Skye couldn’t manage a response, clinging helplessly to his shoulders. A few moments later she fulfilled his request, coming hard around his fingers as she moaned his name.

Brock careful withdrew his fingers, wiping them on his pants before settling her gently back on the desk. Skye kept her grip on his shoulders, the only thing that was grounding her at the moment, and panted.

There was something smug in his expression as he let his gaze drift over her body. It prompted a snap decision when he raised an eyebrow and let his tongue flick over his lips. “So, can I eat you out?”

She put a palm on his chest and pushed. He stumbled back. Skye had no illusions that he was doing anything but humoring her, but she slid down from the counter on shaky legs anyway and pushed him again, and again, until the back of his knees hit her bike.

“Pants,” she said. “Sit.”

The smugness was gone, replaced with a surprised eagerness. “Yes ma’am.” He stripped his belt and pants off faster than she’d ever seen anyone move, swinging his leg back over the bike so that he was straddling it backwards and leaning against the handlebars.

Oh god, talk about looking like a pinup.

With more confidence than she felt, Skye moved forward and bent over him, taking his cock in one hand. It twitched as she touched it, and she could feel the groan that rumbled through his body as she stroked slowly up and down, savoring the pleasant texture. A few minutes of the torturously slow movements had him bucking lightly into her hand and breathing heavily. When she decided he’d had enough, Skye leaned further and took him into her mouth.

She’d never much liked doing this, but there was something about Brock that made her feel a little wild and adventurous, and the way he moaned so loudly it echoed off the walls send a thrill racing through her. She kept up her slow pace, dragging her tongue up the shaft as she sucked and her eyes fluttering closed as his hands found her hair. He didn’t pull, just rested them there, light pressure that was somehow amazingly comfortable. He seemed happy to let her run the show. Trying not to smile, Skye sped up, tightening her grip around the base of his cock as he struggled not to thrust up into her mouth. He moaned again and started cursing, utterly filthy things spilling out of his mouth all tangled up with pleading and encouragement. Skye couldn’t help but laugh, and he moaned even louder as she did, finally spilling into her mouth.

Brock pushed himself upright, sweaty and wide-eyed as he looked at her. “Christ,” he managed, and then made a strangled noise as after a moment of indecision Skye swallowed.

“Nope,” she responded cheekily. “Pretty sure there’d have been some miracles by now.”

He laughed, slumping back against the bike. Skye lower herself to the cool concrete floor, utterly lacking the energy to hold herself up any longer. For long moments the only sounds were the distant croaks of frogs and the sound of crickets.

Brock broke the silence first. “You got a place to stay tonight?”

“Nope.”