Road Trip, Volume 1

by BA Tortuga

  Chapter Fourteen

  THE ROOM was about twenty by twenty. Sonny knew this because he’d watched MJ pace it off. Over and over and over. The man really hated enclosed spaces. Problem was, MJ’s contact hadn’t made a big enough payment. They’d arrived about forty miles from their supplier, gotten a hotel, and MJ had plugged in to check. And kinda had a fit.

  So now Sonny lay on the bed, watching MJ pace, and pondering how to get the man out of his fucking mood. Sonny had taken just about all he could of MJ’s muttering and mumbling, and definitely all of the cursing he could stand.

  Finally Sonny just scratched his belly and chose his opening salvo. He couldn’t sit and think too much on it, or he’d just fuck himself up.

  “This isn’t the same guy that hired you to blow up half of North Carolina, is it?” he asked.

  “What?” MJ stopped, tilted his head like a hound puppy at a whistle. “No. The North Carolina job was a little one.”

  “Yeah? Because you sure took out enough trees and animals.” Oh, he was pushing it there. But it was all for MJ’s mental health. Really.

  Those big ole eyes just flashed, hot as a wildfire. “Excuse me? I blew up a company, a building. The destruction there was killing everything.”

  “Uh-huh. But man, if it was a strong enough blast to block the road? It was a hefty charge.” He kicked one foot up, looked at his bare toes, already starting to lose some of their tan.

  “It was the perfect charge. The buildings were supposed to block traffic. It’s not my fault that I interrupted your meth-lab business.”

  “It wasn’t a meth lab. And it sounds to me like it wasn’t so perfect. You know how many acres burned because of you?” Come on, MJ, he thought. Come on. Whip up a good foam.

  “What the fuck are you talking about? I walked away from that. I wouldn’t have outwalked a motherfucking fire!” Oh, there it was, the hint of fury, of pure fire.

  “Wind was going the other way.” Shit, he was caught. Of course, MJ was pissed now, so it wouldn’t matter he was lying. “Of course you wouldn’t know, since I was beating you down and knocking you unconscious.”

  “You didn’t beat me down, you jackass. I held my own. Bastard.” MJ stepped right up next to him, pushing into his space.

  Sonny rolled up to his feet, giving right back with the aggression. It was like dealing with a really territorial wolf hybrid or something. “You were the one ended up tied, Precious.”

  “You were the one ended up scarred, Sunshine.” Fuck, that wild-eyed look was hot.

  “You ain’t got no room to talk, man.” His cock twitched as he smiled slow and easy. “And you were the one who ended up on a plane.”

  MJ’s chest slapped against his. “And you ended up gimpy and needing someone to do your grocery shopping.”

  It was going to have to get physical, dammit. Sonny gave MJ a hard shove, sending him stumbling back. “Fuck you, Precious. I bought you bananas.”

  MJ coiled in a little, like a fucking snake, and then the bastard pounced, whacking him solidly in the gut and taking him down.

  “Mmph.” Sonny rolled, whaling out with one elbow, trying to catch MJ’s chin. He missed, but he got one shoulder, the solid thwack speaking volumes.

  “Fuck.” MJ winced and growled, pushing him down against the floor good and hard.

  His head banged, and Sonny saw stars even as his teeth clamped together around his tongue. Cussing viciously, he shoved the heel of his hand up under MJ’s mouth, popping MJ’s head right back on that neck like a Pez dispenser.

  MJ grunted, forearm landing on his throat with a smack. Jesus.

  Sonny wiggled, trying to get free, but MJ straddled him just the right way, leaning down to cut off his air, his windpipe closing right up when MJ pushed. Shit. Shit. He struggled harder, his hands scrabbling at MJ’s arm, even as spots began to swim before his eyes and his ears started to ring.

  MJ’s eyes glittered down at him, and then that arm eased up, let him breathe. “Easy now.”

  He flopped back to the floor, his tense muscles all going limp as he wheezed. Crazy fucking bastard. God, Sonny loved that man, but damn. Damn. His chest was massaged, easing the cramps out of his muscles and helping him breathe. Shit. Made him wonder how many people MJ put to sleep and had to bring back.

  “We gonna kiss and make up now?” he croaked, reaching up to stroke MJ’s arms.

  “Mm-hmm.” MJ was watching him like a hawk, leaning down to bring their mouths together. The first kiss was gentle as fuck; the second was deep enough to curl his toes. His hands slid farther up to clench in MJ’s hair, holding that mouth to his, pushing back against MJ’s tongue as the man tried to invade his mouth. Never give in, that was his motto.

  MJ grunted, fucking his lips, trying to cut off his breath again. It was working. Sonny humped, his cock all but drilling into MJ’s hip while he opened his mouth and just let MJ in, sucking in air at the same time. Jesus. He got a hand curled around his prick, MJ rubbing good and hard and making him feel it. Shit, the man was focused.

  They finally broke so MJ could breathe, and Sonny lurched up to bite at the skin and muscle of MJ’s shoulder. MJ needed to just feel for a bit. Just groove on them together and on how pissed off and hot Sonny made him. He figured the biting would help.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Sonny.” MJ’s hips pushed down hard, grinding against him, even as those shoulders tugged away from his mouth.

  The man made him forget everything. Why they’d fought, why they were struggling for the top. All Sonny could do was listen to that hot voice and feel MJ against him and go crazy. He wrapped around MJ, both arms and legs, clinging like a limpet. And he bit some more, bringing up a mark that would stay for a fucking week.

  “More. Need fucking more.” MJ rolled until they were on their sides, chin lifted to give him more skin. Hell yes.

  Now they were in the fucking groove. Sonny licked the mark he’d just made before moving on, searching out more sensitive flesh, more hot goddamned sounds. MJ’s collarbones got him cries. The hollow of the tanned throat had those fingers wrapped around his head, tugging him closer. Someone needed what only he could give. Made him hard as a rock, made him worried he’d come all over them before MJ got what he really had to have. So Sonny closed his eyes and grabbed another spot, his lips closing around one of MJ’s nipples before he bit down deep.

  “Yes!” MJ bucked, rolling him over, straddling him again. “Need. I fucking need, Sonny.”

  “Got me. Take what you need, Precious.” He met that intense stare head-on, his short nails scratching down MJ’s chest and belly, scoring a little. Then he traced the ink at the base of MJ’s cock, pressing just hard enough to make the big vein running beneath throb for him.

  MJ licked his own palm and reached back, wrapping that hand around his cock to slick it. Oh fuck yes. Just like that. Of course, then MJ took him in deep, that fine ass squeezing him tight.

  Sonny shouted, his hips popping up to slam him right into MJ’s body. “MJ. Precious. Jesus. Fuck. I… oh.”

  Fuck, he’d live his whole goddamn life and remember the way MJ arched above him, hard and needy, black marks friggin’ shining on that skin. His cock ached, but Sonny held off as long as he could, his muscles like stone as he gritted his teeth and grabbed MJ’s cock, stroking like there was no tomorrow. He watched that body ripple, watched MJ’s skin go deep red underneath as hot blood rushed to the surface.

  “Fucking love you, you redneck bastard.” The words were almost a snarl, MJ’s body squeezing him like a fist as heat sprayed over his hand.

  “MJ!” He lost it, his vision going all cloudy just like it had when MJ was strangling him, his hands clutching at whatever part of MJ they held. Sonny came so hard he grayed out, his own shout echoing.

  All that hot, muscled body landed on him, MJ just heavy as fuck.

  The sweat ran under his fingers when Sonny stroked MJ’s back, easing them both back to earth. “Better, Precious?”

  “Uh-huh.” Lord, MJ could s
nuggle when he wanted to.

  They both settled on the bed, their skin sticking together, their arms and legs all tangled. And if Sonny was the only one awake to hear the little chime on MJ’s laptop that said he was getting an email, well, so be it.

  There would be time for work later.

  Chapter Fifteen

  NEIL LOVED Paddy’s stream-of-consciousness thoughts at work. He liked them even more at home, though. Paddy’s home, the tiny apartment hidden away on one end of the complex that had all the distractions a man could want, including petrified pizza crust under the desk.

  Kicking one leg over the arm of the couch, Neil listened and hummed along, making Paddy’s thoughts into a song. Not quite a nursery rhyme, almost a limerick. It kept his mind off other things.

  Things like the niggling voice he heard, closer now than it had been before, louder, telling him that Paddy was in danger. They didn’t know Paddy was the target, and how Neil knew it was they, he wasn’t sure. It just seemed like two distinct thoughts.

  Sipping tea calmed and distracted too, even if it was served in a mug made to look like a mutated fish, emblazoned with “Product of Chernobyl,” instead of a proper cup.

  And even if it made Paddy laugh at him.

  Paddy was cleaning, he thought, or perhaps the man was looking for something. Whichever it had started out to be, Paddy had been distracted by the computer email beeping, two books, a rainbow Slinky, and a….

  Fossilized frog.

  “How’s the tea?”

  “Quite good, despite the mug. How’s the, er, frog?”

  “Hard as a rock and sorta dusty.” Paddy grinned over at him, admiring him openly. “You know that the cup doesn’t make a difference, right? Tea is tea is tea.”

  He could hear Paddy begin to wonder if different thicknesses of ceramic or china altered the cooling or sedimentation rate or if the glasses could somehow hold a taste.

  “Actually, it rather does matter, but more for cultural reasons.” He turned the mug around and around, smiling at it. “I like this, though.”

  Mainly because Paddy liked it.

  “Oh, good.” Paddy either found what he was looking for—a CD that was popped into a laptop, music filling the air—or he simply got distracted again, heading over toward him. “I have Pop-Tarts. Are you hungry?”

  “Um. No, not really.” He could eat, but not those sickly sweet things that had been in the cupboard far too long. “I might be in a bit. Shall we order pizza?”

  “Sure, they’re on speed dial.” Paddy settled alongside him, stretching and sliding one hand on his leg. The touches were quite unconscious and quite addictive.

  Neil curled alongside Paddy, closer even than Paddy had got them, letting touch add to Paddy’s hum, drowning out the rest. “Oh. Better.”

  He earned a smile and a nod, but what he focused on was the deep wave of pure pleasure that poured through him, a crystal clear moment of satisfaction. His prick hardened, but that wasn’t even his focus. Paddy was, pure and simple, and all he could do was stare, taking in every little detail, before…. “Before.”

  “Hmm? Before what?” Paddy’s mind began swirling again, curious and interested and happy.

  Well, damn. “I have no idea. Sometimes I pick up random thoughts from elsewhere, and they come out aloud.” That much was true, anyway. He hated lying to Paddy, and tried not to do it in the great scheme of things.

  “Oh. I bet that could get awkward.” Paddy rolled a bit, head landing in his lap. “From now on, I’ll just respond in kind, like a word-association game.”

  Delighted, Neil laughed and dug the fingers of his free hand into Paddy’s ribs. “Perfect, love. That will make the voices in my head all you.”

  “Oh. Oh, your poor….” Paddy started laughing, the sound quite merry, pure joy. “Your poor head!”

  “You keep me quite happily amused.” Neil had to kiss that laughing mouth. Had to.

  He leaned forward and Paddy lifted to meet him, the kiss sparking another laugh, a low moan that was shared between them.

  “Mmm. Good. Oh, love, good.” They shifted again, Paddy turning and straddling him so they pressed together, rocking. The thoughts that danced through his lover—for that was what Paddy was, surely, not a dalliance or a distraction, but a lover—were like being privy to a clever porn movie. One featuring him and Paddy.

  His heartbeat kicked up, and he felt a flush all over as he nodded. “Which would you like to do first?”

  “I have to choose?” The images flooded him—Paddy riding his cock, Paddy’s tongue tracing his tattoos before heading down toward his crease, Paddy sliding deep inside him, his fingers sliding on Paddy’s skin.

  “I….” His moan surprised him, so loud and strident. His hips rose and fell, his head falling back against the roll of the chair.

  Paddy reached down, worked his slacks open as those thoughts came faster, near crashing against him. His fingers working deep into Paddy’s body, Paddy lapping the cream from the tip of his cock.

  Oh. Oh, oh, oh. He could do any and all of that and be the happiest man on earth. Neil arched up into Paddy’s searching fingers, letting his prick slide along the contours of flesh and bone, letting the friction give him what he needed.

  They were forehead to forehead, those amazing green eyes staring into him as Paddy moved, worked him. Images of Paddy bent over a chair, of him on Paddy’s lap and jerking, his own hand pumping furiously—they were enough to drive a man to madness. No one had ever done this to him; no one had ever capitalized on his ability this way. Trust Paddy to be the one. His breath came harsh and hot as his body rolled and pushed. He felt lost in the pleasure, barely able to tell the fantasy from the reality.

  He saw Paddy’s smile, saw the joy in those eyes as the vision of Paddy kneeling in a shower, his cock spreading the swollen lips, slammed into him. “Yeah. Love.”

  Neil grunted as he came after hardly even a touch, the sweet visions too much for him to bear. He held Paddy’s arms and simply spent himself, taking a kiss that left them both breathless and panting.

  Paddy blinked, eyelashes tickling his skin. “That was fun.”

  “You? What about…?” He wanted to make Paddy feel good too, but he was so languid, so floppy, that it was too hard to move.

  “After pizza. I’m happy.” The odd thing? Paddy was. Exceptionally so.

  Such a bloody generous man. It made Neil feel even worse, but he pushed it away, wanting to bask a bit. Just a bit… please.

  Paddy kissed his jaw, tugged him down to cuddle. “Rest, yeah? I’ll order in a minute.”

  Starting to wonder if Paddy could read his mind, Neil nodded and smiled, kissing what he could reach of Paddy’s skin in somewhat random patterns. He would rest. They both would.

  Somehow he had a feeling they would need their strength.

  Chapter Sixteen

  MAN, HE’D forgotten how good it felt to be packing. The pistol hadn’t lived in the small of his back in… a while. Too damned long. MJ grinned, remembering how a certain redneck had taken his pistol from him one chilly, foggy morning. Shit, the bastard had even figured out he was left-handed.

  “You know….” He looked over at Sonny, who was trying to decide whether they were going up through the Midwest or going south through Texas. “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you that first morning.”

  “Huh?” Sonny looked up from his map, grinning a little. The payment had come through, and they’d hit California. The last week had been spent playing janitor, setting those clever Semtex charges all along these huge fuel lines beneath the compound, setting everything to blow. Now they were just waiting for the right moment to slip in, grab that damned hard drive, and set the timers—one for the evacuation alarms, then the ones for that happy kaboom three and a half minutes later. Sonny was planning their route home, just in case someone chased them like last time. The fire department would take at least four minutes to get to the compound, but there were always police, always risks.

  �
�I was just thinking about how I could have shot you. Missed all this. It would have been a waste of a perfectly good redneck.”

  “You know it, Precious,” Sonny said, leaning back and stretching. Joints popped as Sonny really pushed into the stretch, showing off for him. “Just like it would’ve been a total waste if I’d hit you hard enough to crack your head open.”

  “I’m too hardheaded for that. You might have choked me, though.” He licked his lips, considered getting naked again. The ankle holster chafed.

  “Uh-huh. You have proven that. All I need is some morphine, though, and down you go.” That long form unbent, Sonny standing and pacing. The jeans and cowboy boots had been replaced by serviceable black fatigue-type pants and some rubber-soled boots. Sonny did know how to do a job, he had to admit.

  “Yeah, yeah. You and your happy auto-injector thing.” He stood, checking Sonny’s sidearm. H&K USP, top of the line, nice and new and shiny and… “Shit, I wish we could go on a live run with this.”

  “Patience is a virtue, Precious. Chill out. We’ll get the call.” Sonny grinned, shaking his head. “Always so eager to do violence.”

  “I want you armed.” He wanted Sonny safe. It was like a fucking itch.

  “It’s okay. You wouldn’t steer me wrong, and it won’t jam, test run or not.” Moving like a big old cat, Sonny came to him, hands settling on his hips while Sonny nipped his neck.

  Distracting. Sonny was distracting as fuck. “I hate waiting, Sunshine.”

  “I know that, Precious. It ain’t my strong suit either.” Those hot as fuck lips worked up under his ear. “Whatever will we do? Especially since we have to stay dressed and armed and all. You know how fucking sexy you are with a gun in your hand?”

  “You are a sick fuck.” Christ, MJ adored him. “It’s one of your best qualities.”

  “You think? I thought you liked my ass. And my sparkling sense of humor.” Damned if Sonny didn’t start a slow grind against him, fingers petting the holster at the small of his back.