by Roxy Harte
The smell of coffee was too hard to resist, but honestly he needed to see Brian and make sure he was still real. Still in town. It almost seemed too much of a coincidence an archaeologist would arrive in town the same time as treasure hunters. Wasn’t it a standard movie plot to have opposing groups of treasure hunters converge on their target at the same moment? The more likely scenario was that Brian was there to oversee delivery. No! He trusted Brian.
“Brian is not involved in this!”
God, please don’t let Brian be involved in this.
Intellectually, he knew if Brian was working for the same people Erik was, he wouldn’t have shot him. Shadow rolled her eyes up to look at him and called him an idiot with her expression. I know, last summer I wouldn’t have believed Erik was capable of murdering me either and look how that turned out.”
Woof.
“I know, idiot with a capital I.” Hawk started down the stairs with his dog on his heels. He found Brian sitting in a corner booth. Alone. His head was dropped back against the wall, and his eyes were closed, but Hawk knew he wasn’t sleeping. His hair was damp, like he’d recently showered too, but he was still wearing his blood stained clothing. At least he’d washed all the blood from his face.
Hawk grabbed a mug of coffee and walked to the corner table. “Mind if I join you?”
“No,” Brian answered without opening his eyes. “Everyone else left to get some shut eye before the ascent tomorrow.”
Probably a good idea.” Hawk saw that the mug of coffee sitting in front of him hadn’t even been touched. He went ahead and sat opposite Brian. “You got cleaned up, are you okay?”
Brian opened his eyes; they were red rimmed, whether from lack of sleep or because he’d been crying Hawk wasn’t sure, but he whispered, “I’m okay,” then cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter. “I should be asking you that. Think your neck is going to need stitches?”
“Nah, it’s nothing, dab of superglue and I’m good as new.”
“Looks like something.”
Hawk shrugged. “Your head?”
“While you were in the shower, Dodd drove me over to the emergency services building. They have full showers, so I was able to clean up. A paramedic glued shut the gash in my scalp.”
“Wow.” Here he’d been hogging the shower and Brian had need to clean up just as badly.
“I’d have never dreamed I’d be able to kill a man that easily, without thought, without regret. I mean, I’ve killed before—hunting—and I always felt some remorse, but here I sit, drinking coffee while a man lies dead in the morgue and I feel absolutely nothing. I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
“I’m glad you were able to pull the trigger. I’ve seen experienced officers choke. You saved my life.”
“I think that’s the only reason I’m okay with it.”
Hawk lifted his mug to his lips, saw that his hand was trembling, and hoped Brian didn’t notice. He must have, because he commented, “It was an emotionally tough night for you too.”
Hawk nodded, sipping, hiding behind the curve of the mug. He looked at the coffee inside the cup to keep from meeting the eyes of the man until he had no choice but to lower the container and meet his gaze. “I knew him. His name was Erik Dahlström.”
Brian didn’t say anything; he just sat there quietly, waiting for Hawk to get up the nerve to say the rest. At least that’s the way it felt.
“We were lovers. Last summer, I guided him all over the Bitterroot Range, telling him stories and myths. I led him to a treasure I didn’t even believe existed. I believed everything I was telling him was the embellished folktales of an old man’s youth.” He felt both relieved and worse, admitting the truth.
“So, I wasn’t special at all. It’s your habit to seduce unsuspecting tourists?”
Hawk tensed until he realized Brian was messing with him. Brian cracked a smug grin, and the mood at the table lightened considerably. Hawk shook his head. “I was an idiot.”
“You were tricked, used, but there was no way for you to see his diabolical plan. Besides, treasure hasn’t even been confirmed. What if all of this has been for nothing? There may be nothing of value up there.”
“Or anything of value up there could have already been completely cleared out. Erik spoke as if it was something.”
Brian caught his gaze over the table. “I’m glad the sheriff pulled rank. I don’t like the thought of you facing any of those men, especially alone. Waiting for a tactical assault team seems like a better plan.”
Hawk let out a heavy sigh. “I won’t be left out of this.”
“I thought that was the forgone conclusion. FBI shows up and takes over.”
“They won’t be able to take on that mountain ‘til spring thaw without an experienced guide.”
Brian nodded. “Probably a valid point.”
Hawk growled and hit the table. “Jesus, I hate waiting.”
“I KNOW,” BRIAN assured him and then spent the next hour sharing his misery. Hawk would pace awhile and then sit and drink coffee awhile. To Brian he seemed like a caged tiger, raw power wanting to be free. He touched the top of his hand. “Let’s go upstairs. It’s going to be hours.”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
Brian winked. “I didn’t say anything about sleeping.”
Hawk allowed Brian to take his hand and lead him upstairs, but paused at the door. “If I go in there with you, I might hurt you. There’s a darkness that rides me sometimes and I can feel it wanting to be given free rein tonight.”
“I’m counting on the pain. I know you won’t seriously damage me. Please use me, take out your frustration on my flesh.”
“If you’re certain, go into the bedroom, strip, knee; and wait.”
“Wait? You’re not coming in now?” Brian panicked, feeling like Hawk was brushing him off; or worse, keeping him occupied so he could sneak back up the mountain alone. But that would be insane. Suicide. Surely he wouldn’t.
“My toy kit is in the Range Rover.”
Brian watched him go back down the stairs he’d just managed to get him up. “This is ridiculous.”
He started to take off down the stairs after him, but stopped himself and went back into the bedroom. He either trusted Hawk’s word or he didn’t. Sighing heavily, he closed the door, stripped, used the bathroom, and then knelt. He was already sporting wood. How could kneeling and waiting be such a fucking turn-on?
He was barely in position with knees spread, hands resting on his thighs palm up, head lowered when Hawk returned. He did not look at him, didn’t raise his eyes at all.
“Good boy.”
Brian felt the corners of his lips start to turn up at the praise, but fought hard for his neutral expression to return. If he learned anything in his hours of research at all it was that this moment between Master and slave was one of the most important, setting the tone for the rest of the scene and he needed Hawk to know he trusted him, respected his role and power, and was ready for anything he could dish out.
Crossing the room, Hawk set his phone in a docking station and Brian was surprised when a dark instrumental with a heavy base beat started playing. He walked over to Brian and stood directly in front of him. “Lift your gaze.”
He did and his eyes widened. Hawk had removed his shirt, pulled his hair into a pony tail, and held a single tail whip in each hand. He’d never seen a single tail whip in action, and hoped they weren’t as damaging as the ten foot bullwhip of Indiana Jones fame could be. “What’s your safeword, subbie?”
“Red.”
“Good, you will use it if you need to, won’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.” I trust Hawk, I trust Hawk.
Hawk pulled the low coffee table to the center of the room and laid a folded quilt on top. “All fours on the table, sub.”
Brian took a deep breath and moved into position.
“Eyes on me.”
Brian met his gaze.
“I’m not going to bind you, so I am tr
usting you not to move.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Seriously, try not to even flinch. Have you ever seen a single tail in action?”
“No Sir.”
“How about a Florentine flogging?”
“Only in videos, Sir.”
“Well, this is the same technique. Florentine single tail is my specialty. I find it relaxing and visually pleasing. I’m going to start out with a soft stroke to pink up your skin a little. Create a little heat. Try to relax and stay in position. Once I’ve set up the rhythm, the beat won’t change. The intensity will. When you are taking as painful a stroke as you can handle, I want you to say “Yellow” and I will not make it any more painful but I will maintain that level until you safeword or I am able to release my demon. Do you understand?”
Brian held his gaze. “I understand, Sir.”
Hawk moved behind him, and by dropping his head back down, he could watch him warm up.
Crack.
Crack.
Hawk snapped the whip several more times then lined up his body with Brian’s exposed ass and thighs as his targets. The first few strikes felt like tiny stings. Not enough to leave a mark, but enough to keep his attention focused. He didn’t think his cock could get any harder if he tried. His balls were riding high and tight. Smart boys, staying out of the line of fire.
Hawk was good, covering his skin with equally spaced pops, not hitting the same patch of skin twice. True to his word, the strokes grew harder and harder.
Crack, crack.
Crack, Crack.
He gasped, then moaned. Pain flared through his ass cheeks lighting him up.
Crack, crack.
Crack, Crack.
He kept his gaze on Brian, who was getting his jam on while he wielded his implements of torture. It looked like he was dancing, his footwork rhythmic and graceful. Watching Hawk’s beauty in motion detracted from the pain. The pain increased, the fiery burn escalated, but it was pleasurable heat, pleasurable pain. He dropped his head lower, pressing his forehead to the cool quilt as the heat radiated through his body in pulsing waves.
The room started a slow motion spin.
God.
He felt Hawk’s hand on his shoulder. “Let me help you to the bed.”
“No, I’m good. I’m fine. I can take more. I’ll take as much as you can give.”
“You are very, very good, Brian.” Hawk helped him off the low table and onto the bed. “Lay on your stomach. You were amazing, but right now you’re in subspace and I’m flat out exhausted.”
“I did good if you can sleep now, right?”
“I feel much better, Brian. Thank you.” Hawk reached into his toy kit for the arnica gel he preferred for aftercare. It worked quickly to reduce any swelling and minimized the amount of bruising. It also helped relieve any residual pain. He rubbed it liberally over Brian’s bottom and thighs.
Brian was snoring softly before Hawk finished rubbing in the gel. Hawk wrapped around him and held him while he slept. He laid awake, just watching him sleep and wondering if a relationship could be possible. He barely managed to sleep a few hours himself, when morning brought back the agonizing wait. Neither he nor Brian talked. They sat in the diner, drinking too much coffee, not eating.
Hours past daybreak, a shadow fell over them. Sheriff Dodd walked over to their table. He had a man with him who was obviously FBI. “Dr. Van Zant, this is Agent Argus Miller.”
Brian stood and shook his hand. Agent Miller announced, “Dr. Van Zant, I’ll admit upfront that I checked out your credentials and your reputation in the archaeology community is impressive. I’ve was told you volunteered to ascend the mountain in a professional capacity.”
“That’s correct.”
“We can’t guarantee your safety, but we will do everything we can to make certain you stay clear of any direct line of fire.”
“I understand.”
The agent turned to face Hawk. “You must be the ranger the sheriff has been telling me about.”
Hawk didn’t stand or extend his hand in greeting. He felt his jaw tightening.
“Since you know these mountains better than anyone, I’d like to ask you to act as our guide.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“You can recommend another guide, but since you’ve already scoped out the situation, you’re currently the best man for the job.” The agent returned to his men without a backward glance.
Smiling, Sheriff Dodd leaned on the table and winked. “I appreciate your cooperation with this, Toby.”
Hawk shook his head. Politics. But he couldn’t complain since he’d been officially asked to assist. “Like I’d miss out on the fun?”
♥
Brian was dressed in snow pants, a lightweight long-sleeved shirt, a heavier sweater, and a subzero jacket. He was still cold. He remembered his naïveté when he’d thought about climbing down the mountain in flip-flops after his crash. He’d quickly decided against it, fearing he might lose his toes. Now, wearing wool socks and appropriate footwear, he wasn’t so certain his toes were any safer.
They’d ridden as far as they could in snowmobiles, traveled for a while on cross-country skis, and finally, attached sharp metal cleats to their boots for the last of the climb and started their ascent. During summer months it might be a scramble, but following the earlier blizzard they’d needed ice axes, harnesses, and rope. Once begun, the rise seemed never ending.
Hawk was directly above him, belaying him. The man inspired him to keep moving, making every inch of the climb seem effortless. He threw his axe into the ice, pulled up. He climbed about twenty feet fairly rapidly, and then suddenly the ice gave way, cracking, and Hawk was free-falling. Brian braced for impact as the man fell toward him but watched amazed as Hawk swung his axe and anchored in the ice, stopping his free fall. He looked down at Brian and smiled widely. Brian thought he heard him laugh as he resumed his ascent.
Effortless.
Brian’s muscles screamed, so he knew that part was a lie, an optical illusion. He hoped he looked as skilled to the agents below and running a line parallel to them, but guessed he didn’t. One thing was clear in his mind: cliff climbing was definitely tougher and more unpredictable than gym climbing.
“Almost there,” Hawk encouraged, and Brian pitched his axe into ice and pulled his weight up. Reaching a ledge, they rested. The snow-covered valley below was beautiful, a winter wonderland.
Brian looked at Hawk and realized that although they were climbing to face almost certain danger, he was at total peace. He seemed immersed and entranced by the natural beauty surrounding them, granite peaks iced white with snow, towering pines, and bright blue skies.
He knew his own face was probably etched with worry. He suddenly wished they were alone, because he longed to kiss him. Hawk caught him looking at him and pointed in the direction he was gazing. “Do you see them?”
Brian looked at a nearby slope and saw movement. He tensed until he realized it wasn’t men. The shapes were bighorn sheep. A sudden crack, sounding almost like thunder, rent the silence as two males collided horns. Hawk laughed. “The snow hasn’t dampened their spirits.”
Brian couldn’t believe the animals were so near and he’d been oblivious to them. He’d been so focused on the trail forged by Hawk, he hadn’t thought about the rest of the range. Just because he hadn’t seen any tracks on the mountain didn’t mean there weren’t any. There were several alternate faces anyone wishing to ascend the peak could climb. And if they could see the sheep so clearly, anyone looking would obviously see them. “Are we safe, out in the open like this?”
Hawk looked at him, seeming surprised. “I was just thinking that very thing. We should move into the shelter of the scrub. It won’t be perfect coverage, but we won’t be as open to threat as we are now.”
“Do you really think there is someone else up here?”
“I think Erik was meeting someone up here today.”
Brian saw the dark look that flashed thr
ough Hawk’s eyes. Meeting Hawk’s gaze, he asked, “You all right?”
“I will be, as soon as we get all these scumbags behind bars.” Hawk gathered their gear and announced loud enough for the agents to hear, “We should keep moving.”
Less than thirty minutes later, they reached the mouth of a cave, and it was evident by the packed snow that someone had been going in and out. Perhaps many. Hawk lifted his finger to his lips, signaling for them to remain silent. He mouthed, Stay here, before disappearing inside. It was obvious to Brian the agents weren’t impressed, but also evident they respected him enough to do as he asked.
Hawk returned less than a minute later. “Three men, inside.”
The agents lifted their weapons, ready to enter, but Hawk shook his head and lifted his chin to look at the sky. The sound of helicopter blades came to them on the wind and all nine men pressed against the rock face. They backed away from the entrance and ducked into heavy brush. As they watched, a helicopter dropped into sight. Ropes dropped, and a lone man rappelled down. When he was safely on the ledge, he lifted his hand, and the chopper flew off.
He disappeared into the mouth of the cave. Shouts came from inside. “What do you mean the objects aren’t ready for pickup?”
“There was a blizzard, if you didn’t notice.”
“What does that have to do with anything? The objects are here; you are here.”
“You really have no concept of what is in here, do you?”
Agent Miller motioned his men to follow him, his hard glance was command enough for Brian to stay behind. Hawk stayed beside him, and Brian knew by his expression he would rather have led the unit. Hawk shielded him when raised voices came from inside the cave, but it soon became obvious the men inside were surrendering. Outnumbered. Outgunned. The agents appeared suddenly in the mouth of the cave with their prisoners.
“That was quick and easy,” Brian commented, slightly disappointed there hadn’t been a little more excitement. It felt like he was pumped up on adrenaline for absolutely no reason. The letdown was overwhelming.
Agent Miller waved him toward the cave. “Dr. Van Zant, I think you’ll want to take a look inside.”
Brian exchanged glances with Hawk before entering the cave. Hawk followed closely, and as the swell of darkness surrounded them, Brian felt Hawk’s fingertips brush the inside of his palm, just a touch to let him know he was there beside him, but one of intimacy. A smile touched the corners of his mouth as large flashlights flared to life. Agent Miller led the way to a narrow passage they would be forced to squeeze through. He handed Brian a flashlight. “After you.”