At that point, Mike wasn’t up for confrontation. Instead, he simply wanted to get the hell out of there. “You mind moving?”
Fury poured off the man in waves, and his nostrils flared, but he didn’t mutter a word. He stepped sideways and shoved past, their arms knocking into each other’s, as he strode inside the bar.
Asshole. Mike shook off his irritation and walked down the sidewalk to his patrol car. Another hour at the office then he could go home, collapse in his bed, and try to forget the uneventful night altogether.
***
When the vehicle rounded the bend and the high beams illuminated the long stretch of driveway, Damien balled his hands into fists at his side. Standing in a dense patch of trees off the side of the darkened ranch-style house, he willed his impatience to calm the hell down. Though the steady night’s breeze was chilling, his body still burned from the inside out.
With a burst of speed, he rushed forward and pinned the figure against the door, leaving the keys to dangle in the lock.
“What the hell did you think you were doing tonight?” His voice was as coarse as the gravel lining the drive.
At once, the tension drained out of his prey’s shoulders. “Fuck, don’t do that shit to me. You know I hate it.”
Damien affixed his fiercest glare in place and spun the human to face him. “I asked what the hell you thought you were doing tonight.”
For several heartbeats, he studied the man’s crystal-blue eyes and flushed, clean-shaven cheeks before he answered the need thrumming through his body. He weaved his fingers through the sheriff’s short hair and pulled his head closer to his own.
“You worried me, Mike,” he confessed in a rough whisper. Unable to bear their close proximity any longer, he fused their lips together and slid his tongue inside the welcoming heat of the other man’s mouth. He closed his eyes while he savored the spicy flavor.
Heaven.
His disobedient, sexy mate tasted of heaven.