by R. Cayden
“It’s hard to say what a relationship is…” Gray said. He scrunched up his face, trying to decide how to answer. It took a second to convince himself to be honest, but Jameson just kept smiling at him with those big open eyes, and he fucking fell apart again. “Maybe forty guys?”
Jameson held a gold lipstick in the air, then pointed it at Gray. “Perfect.”
Gray laughed. “Perfect? How’s that?”
Jameson kept working on his makeup but tilted his eyes to Gray. “Because you can teach me how to have sex. You’ll know what you’re talking about.”
Gray blurted out a deep chuckle. “Beautiful, I’ve got news for you. You were teaching me a few things last night.”
Jameson laughed, obviously pleased. “I did not.”
Gray held his hands in the air. “Whatever you say. I’ll be happy to teach you as long as you want. I’ll teach you in the motel. I’ll teach you back at the mansion. I’ll give you a PhD in fucking if that’s what you want, beautiful.”
“No wonder you had sex with so many people,” Jameson teased. “You’re shameless.”
He put the mirror down. His makeup completed, the look struck Gray, surprising him. It was soft, practically glowing, and it made Jameson look even more like an angel than he already did. But it was strange, too, from the pale colors to the geometric designs. Unlike how other people did their makeup and somehow uniquely Jameson.
“Damn,” Gray said. “You look amazing. Maybe you really could go undercover like that.”
“Like this?” Jameson shook his head. “Too risky. I wish, though.”
Gray studied him. “It does give me some ideas. But we can worry about that later. For now, I think we’ll find plenty of ways to entertain ourselves in the motel before we sneak back to the mansion in a few days.”
Jameson shook his head quickly. “What? Why would we do that? Why would we go back to the mansion?”
“Once the heat dies down from the media.” Gray scratched at his beard. “I just figured that was the plan.”
“I don’t want to go back,” Jameson said quickly.
Gray’s heart ached a little at the way Jameson’s body tensed. He scooted himself down the bed, then stroked the back of Jameson’s head. “You don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to. I’m not sure how long this motel will keep its charm, though. You might get claustrophobic and tired of gas station sandwiches.”
Jameson laughed, then leaned back into Gray’s arms. “We can figure something out, right?”
Gray’s brain started racing. His plan with the motorcycle helmet made sense if they were driving at night and hiding out in a cheap motel, but not if Jameson wanted to keep travelling. And as much as Gray knew he could keep him safe back at the mansion, beyond that, he wasn’t so sure.
His phone rang out, and he reached across the bed to grab it. “Fuck,” he grumbled. “My uncle.”
“Your boss?”
“That’s him. I should take this.” He jumped to his feet as he answered and started pacing around the room. “Hey, Uncle Declan. What’s new?”
“How’s the Red Cedar Motel this time of year?”
Gray froze in place, a chill icing down his spine. “How did you know where we are? Are we on the news?”
“No, you fucking knucklehead. I had my boyfriend track your phone.”
“What? Why did you do that?”
“Because I knew you were going to do something like this!” Gray held the phone away from his ear while his uncle yelled for a second, cursing up a storm.
“Is he mad?” Jameson whispered.
Gray shook his head. “Just a little grumpy this morning,” he whispered back. “He’s no good before his coffee.”
“Do you understand what that means?” Declan barked, his voice finally calm enough that Gray could put the phone back to his ear. “If Seb can find your location so easily, so can other people.”
“What?” Gray asked. “That’s not true. No one even knows who I am.”
“Maybe. But with the stories flashing through the newspapers about you two right now? And both of you have location sharing turned on through your phones. Do you know how easy that was for Seb to hack? God help us if anyone figures out who Jameson’s horny bodyguard is, too!”
Gray thought to the motel room, which he had put on his card. “Aw, fuck.”
“Listen,” Declan said. “You’re not toast yet, but if anyone tracks you two to a cheap motel in the middle of nowhere, you’ll be in a world of pain. Do you have a safe ride to get yourselves out of there?”
Gray glanced at the door and thought about the parking lot on the other side, where the pink motorcycle waited. “Kind of.”
There was a long pause. Then Declan sighed. “Tell me what vehicle you took.”
“Raiden dropped off one of the motorcycles for us.”
“Is it the pink one, Gray? The stolen pink motorcycle? Are you telling me you took that goddamn stolen pink motorcycle!”
“Raiden got a fake license plate for it,” Gray said defensively. Although, now that he was explaining it to his uncle, he had to admit, it wasn’t the best plan.
“Do you need me to come?” Declan asked, his voice firm. “Get you out of this?”
Gray cleared his throat. “No, we’re fine.” He turned back to Jameson, who was looking at him expectantly. If things got any worse, he wouldn’t hesitate to call Declan back. But more than anything, he wanted to be the one who kept Jameson safe. It was his job to make the miracle between them to last.
“I got it,” he said. “I swear. Thanks for the heads up, Uncle Declan.”
No sooner had Gray set down his phone than Jameson received a call. While Gray paced, trying desperately to think up a plan, Jameson listened to his frantic publicist rant. Ten minutes later, he finally convinced her that he was fine and that she could handle the PR crisis on her own, and he and Gray were collapsed back on the bed together.
“Bad news,” Gray said. “We can’t stay in the motel. Declan was able to track us here.”
“Oh,” Jameson said. “That is bad news. While we’re on the subject, my publicist says not to expect things to quiet down anytime soon.”
“We have to get rid of the bike, too,” Gray blurted out. “Sorry.”
The each turned on the bed, facing each other. Jameson blinked a few times, and his eyelashes had a yellow tinge when they fluttered. “Gray,” he said, “we never should have answered our phones.”
Gray laughed. “I think you’re right.”
They stared at each other for a second. An idea popped into Gray’s mind, and when Jameson’s eyes got wider, he somehow knew that they were each thinking the same thing.
“We have to get rid of our phones,” they both said at the same time.
Jameson snatched the devices up, then jumped off the bed and hurried into the bathroom. A second later, Gray heard two plops, followed by the sound of the toilet flushing.
Jameson stepped into the doorway and folded his arms over his chest. “Now no one can track us,” he said brightly.
“Did you just flush our phones down the toilet?”
“The flush was for dramatic effect. They’re still floating in the water, but that should short them out.”
Gray nodded. “I didn’t like that phone anyway. Nice work!”
Jameson laughed. “What else do we need? A new vehicle and a place to stay?”
“It’s harder to stay anonymous than most people think,” Gray said. “And especially without a whole team like you’re used to. Even if we had a lot of cash on us, we can’t just go and rent a vehicle or a hotel room without leaving a trail. And from what I understand, people make it a full-time job to track you down.”
“Isn’t that part of what you do with your guys in Albany?” Jameson asked. “Getting away with stuff?” He returned to the bed and bounced down beside Gray. “You’ve got to know some tricks, right? I’m not ready to go back there yet, with all those cameras pointed at my gate. I’m just not
ready to give them this.”
Gray rubbed the back of his head. He thought about calling Declan back right then and asking for help, but then he caught Jameson’s eye, and there was only one path forward.
“Beautiful,” he said, “I’ll pull every trick in the book to keep you safe.”
Jameson
Halfway to the nearest town, Jameson started to worry that his makeup was running beneath the helmet. It was the funniest thing, but just getting to worry about something like that made him feel free. He squeezed his body closer to Gray’s, the cool air whipping by, and felt so fucking alive he could barely believe it.
Alive, and a little bit nauseous. He was still getting used to the strange feeling of being in public and acting like things were totally chill. That afternoon, he knew that he wasn’t actually invincible, but riding on the back of Gray’s pink motorcycle with a stylish helmet and a full face of makeup, he could at least let himself pretend.
“Come on, Gray,” he whispered into the wind. “Take me away.”
Gray pulled up to a chain pharmacy on the outside of town and parked the motorcycle off to the back. He slapped Jameson on the shoulder as he jumped off. “Be right back!”
Jameson went to grab his phone and then remembered that he had soaked it. He imagined his publicist screaming into his voicemail and giggled to himself, getting another thrill from breaking the rules. Literally anything could be happening in the news cycle, but instead of freaking out about it, he was skipping the whole thing.
That really was freedom, and Jameson hopped in place a few times, grinning underneath his helmet, while he waited for Gray to return.
Gray strolled out of the pharmacy in his black leather jacket, looking just as casual as he always did. With a big pair of sunglasses on and his strong gaze hidden, he almost blended in completely. As he approached, he reached into the bag he carried, then pulled out a large piece of fabric. “You know these things?” he said, holding it up with a wave.
Jameson took the fabric, and it unfurled into a large, heavy scarf. He turned toward the back of the parking lot, made sure it was clear, and then popped up his visor. “Yeah, it’s called an infinity scarf, is that right?” The scarf was meant to be worn wrapped a couple of times around the neck, and it swirled into itself.
Gray pulled a second scarf out of the large bag, then held it up to Jameson. “Horatio made a disguise out of a military scarf one time. He just cut off some fabric from a second one, then sewed it in place so it covered the bottom of his face. Actually worked pretty well.”
Jameson considered it. He glanced around the empty parking lot one more time, then popped his helmet off and tugged one of the scarves on. It was dark purple, and checkered through with a beautiful blue, and he easily tugged a bit up over his mouth. “What do you think?” he asked through the fabric.
Gray grinned. “You look hot.”
Jameson laughed. “Do I look like me?”
“You look like Jameson. That’s good. I think it means you don’t look like Justin Sweet. But here, there’s more.” He reached into the bag again, then pulled out a small silver ring. “It’s a clip-on earring.” He stuck his tongue into his cheek, then held the ring out. “You could rock a little metal, right?”
Jameson felt his cheeks warm. He took the ring, fiddled with it for a second, and then popped it on his ear. “I love it. I’ve always wanted an earring” He squatted down and looked at himself in the small motorcycle mirror. With his hair styled and pulled to the back, Justin Sweet did look pretty unrecognizable. And even if someone were to stare, the scarf covered enough of his face and his nose. He was sure he’d slip by.
And even better than that, Gray was right. The look was hot. It had a nice flare to it, and his eyes popped above the colorful fabric.
“I think it works,” he said. “I don’t even really mind having this thing in my face.” He breathed in hard a few times, sucking the fabric against his mouth then blowing it back out. “I can sew it up like you suggested in the car.”
“You don’t mind the scarf yet,” Gray said, then tapped Jameson on the hip. “It’s going to make it impossible to kiss you when we’re out in public. Not to mention I won’t be able to take you out for dinner.”
“Dinner dates are out, but at least I can get around without wearing the helmet now.” Jameson struck a pose in the mirror one more time. His plain blue jacket and grey denim jeans didn’t really match the look, but he’d find a way around that soon. “What’s next?”
Gray toed at the pavement. “Well, next is the tricky part.”
Jameson leaned back on the motorcycle. “Why’s that?”
“You asked about what me and my guys did, but what me and my guys did wasn’t exactly legal.”
Jameson nodded. “I know. You told me that.”
“But you still want to see?”
Jameson thought about it. “Will I regret this?”
“I hope not.” Gray looked nervous as he kept his boot against the pavement, moving a rock around. “I’m kind of laying it all out here, Jameson.”
“Thank you,” Jameson said. “For doing that.” Seeing Gray vulnerable reminded him that he wasn’t the only one taking risks, which Jameson appreciated.
Gray smiled, but still looked a little hesitant. “Well, we need a new ride, so the first thing we would normally do is to find a mark. You know, like a guy to target. With my crew, we’d normally just steal his car, but considering we’re trying to ditch a stolen ride, I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”
Jameson felt a strong urge to push Gray forward. Stealing a car was a crazy idea, but the fact that Gray used to do that with his crew made Jameson weirdly jealous. Despite that, he could pick up on the way Gray was feeling hesitant, and he just nodded his head instead of arguing. “Okay,” Jameson said. “You told me you always pick men who are assholes?”
Gray stopped kicking at the pavement. “Yeah, that’s right. Abusive dickheads, bosses who exploit their workers, that sort of thing. From there, it’s kind of an art. I feel people out, see what they’re all about, and try to think on my toes. You’ll just stay in the background while I do the work. Try to blend in and help me keep watch for trouble.”
Jameson tugged on his scarf. “Where the hell would someone dressed like me blend in?”
“The place where all the biggest assholes in the area will probably be, too. A little strip club by the business district.”
“A strip club?” Jameson bounced, nervous energy bubbling up inside.
“Is that too much?”
He shook his head quickly. “I just never thought I’d go to a strip club, that’s all.”
Gray grinned, then nodded to the motorcycle. “Well hop on. We’ve got a whole world to check out.”
GRAY
“It’s not that everyone who goes to a strip club is an asshole,” Gray explained as he hopped off the motorcycle, parked safely in an alley. “But a lot of people who are assholes go to strip clubs. You follow?”
Jameson thought about the logic, then nodded. “Sure, that makes sense.”
They strolled to the parking lot behind the club, with tall fences and shadowed corners that were supposed to make the place feel private. As Jameson spent several minutes touching up his makeup and fussing with his scarf in a small mirror before he was ready to go in, Gray raced over options in his mind, trying to come up with the best plan to keep Jameson safe without spoiling the fun.
Because every time Jameson pursed his lips in a smile, Gray felt like he lost his ability to say no. It just felt that good to make him happy.
“We’ll have the best luck if we split up inside,” Gray continued. “You’ll hang out at the bar, and I’ll mingle around the floor. After that, all we have to do is listen. It won’t be long before someone starts bragging about what a dickhead he is.”
Jameson laughed, then smoothed down his jacket. “Don’t I look a little… gay? To be in a strip club, I mean.”
Gray shook his head, the
n took Jameson by the arm to walk in. “You’d be surprised. A lot of gay men find their way to strip clubs. Not sure why, but I’ve never been in one where I felt out of place.”
“How many strip clubs have you been in?”
“It’s only to find a mark, babe, don’t you worry,” Gray teased, leaning in. “Anyway, if the customers look away from the stage long enough to notice you, they’ll just think you’re a weird millennial or something.”
Jameson paused by the back door, then took in a deep breath. “If someone told me a few weeks ago that I would go to a strip club with a full face of makeup, I wouldn’t have believed it.”
Gray nodded back to the motorcycle. “Last chance to wait it out. I can drop you off somewhere safe, then come back and do the work on my own.”
Jameson brightened. “Hell no. Do you know how much fun this is for me?”
Gray swept him up in an embrace, then pressed Jameson back against the brick wall. He trailed his hands down Jameson’s side, earning a shudder that made his cock hard. “Once I get you in private and take that scarf off, I’m never going to stop kissing you.”
Jameson pressed his face against Gray’s ear. “Then let’s get a move on,” he said. “Just one question, first.”
Gray leaned back. “What’s that?”
“Tell me why,” Jameson said. “What makes you want to take out guys like this?”
Gray grunted. “Funny. No one really asks me that,” he said. “For me, I guess it’s like I’m trying to make up for what my family did. A lot of my uncles and cousins were bad people, and when I see other assholes, taking advantage, I feel like it’s up to me to even the scoreboard, you know?”
He sighed, then kicked back against the brick wall. “Raiden, I think, has just been fighting so long, he doesn’t know how to do it any other way. Horatio’s got his own clouds, but he’s a quiet guy. He wouldn’t want me spreading his business.”
Jameson nodded. He looked satisfied, and Gray felt relieved, like he had passed some test, even though the biggest challenge was right on the other side of the door.