Payce's Passions Read Free Page B

what’s going on. Payce has connections everywhere and it can’t hurt, trust me. I’ll do whatever it takes to get this bastard out of my life once and for all.” He walks toward the phone as the officer returns to the living room.
    “There’s no sign of forced entry. The windows are still locked, nothing is broken, and both door locks are intact. Is anything missing?” The cop silences the squelch down on his radio.
    “No, nothing is missing. When I dragged him out of the house, he didn’t have anything.” I shake my head.
    “You said he used to live here, he probably used an old house key to enter. I’m sorry, but at this point there isn’t anything else we can do. Nothing is missing and there’s no evidence of a forced entry, except your word. I believe you, my hands are just tied.” He shrugs.
    “This is bullshit man,” I whisper to Damien.
    The officer puts his clipboard on the table, fills out the report, and calls in on his radio. He scribbles down something and hands Damien a business card. “Here’s my card. It has my name, number, and the case number on it. If he shows up again, or tries to make contact with you, call us. We’ll take him in for questioning. Again, I apologize. I’ll make sure to make another round through the neighborhood before heading out. You gentlemen have a good night. Oh, you might want to get those locks changed too. Good evening.” The cop walks out the door.
    “That’s it?” I hold my hands out. “That’s all they can do, hand us a card and say have a good night? Maybe if the county had done their job and called us when he was released we would have changed the locks.”
    “Dax, calm down. It’s my fault, I should have done that from the beginning. I just assumed when he handed the key back, that was it.” He grabs my hand.
    “No, this lunatic is out there somewhere and he’s going to keep fucking with you. I’m not letting that happen.”
    “Payce?” Damien holds the phone up like he’s asking for my permission.
    I nod my head. “Call him.”
     

 
    Chapter Three

    Payce
     
    My hips grind into him, as I tighten my hand on the back of his neck, shoving him face first against the wall. I slither my tongue down his neck, pressing my bare chest against his naked back. His skin is soft and smooth, fuck yeah. With my boot, I kick his feet apart and slide my fingers down his arms, the tickle causes him to erupt in chills. As I reach his wrists, I clamp my hands around them, and pepper his back with kisses.
    The combo of his cologne and sweat tingle my tongue as I lick up to his shoulder. I stop to inhale his aroma, gliding the tip of my nose underneath his hairline and gently nibble at the back of his neck. Goddamn he smells so fucking fuckable.
    He relaxes to my touch and I love it because that’s when I can catch him off guard. I jerk his arms straight up in the air, turn his wrists and slap his palms against the sheetrock. He turns his head to the side, letting out a gasp.
    “Don’t fucking move,” I growl out to him and release his wrists.
    He does as told and I take a step back. My cock jolts at the visual of the naked man spread eagle against my living room wall. I unbutton and zip down my jeans, taking my dick into my hand, giving it a couple of strokes, then walk back up behind him again.
    Still jacking myself, I pat my prick against his ass cheek and he quivers.
    “You like that?” I whisper across his shoulder.
    “Oh God, yes,” he moans.
    A grin crosses my face. “Mmmm…good. Tell me what you want?”
    “I want you to fuck me,” he purrs like a fucking kitten.
    I stroke myself a little faster, teasing one hand down his side to his ass, grabbing him in my palm.
    “You want what? Who do you want to fuck you?” I play with him like a cat with a mouse, giving him a playful swat on the ass.
    “You, I want you,” he begs.
    I slap his ass hard, the sting tingles through my fingertips. ”Who?”
    “You, Payce. I want you to fuck me,