Chapter 3

The chin above him was hairless and strong

and masculine, and Trace gave in to the sensation, closing his eyes

again as he let the tongue in. It flicked over his teeth, the

inside of his cheeks, his own tongue, before it licked away over

his lips and chin. Small kisses soft along his jaw, wet lips

closing over his earlobe, a man’s breath in his ear. Trace brought

one hand up from his crotch to feel the close-cropped hair of his

visitor, and his fingers found the small tagged piercing high up in

one ear that was the mark of a replicate.

Opening his eyes again, he leaned back as the

man kissed his neck and tried to see more of his visitor. A slim

body beneath a silver and blue jumpsuit, one hand by Trace’s head

to steady him above with the other buried in a pocket, an obscene

bulge at his crotch. Not an Alpha-10—too thin. Into the ear close

to his mouth, Trace breathed, “Let me guess. Psi-45?”

“Delta-23,” the other whispered between