Mile High -Book 1 of the Men in Motion Series

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Mile High -Book 1 of the Men in Motion Series Page 8

by GA Hauser


  “Oh, that’s it. Get out.”

  “Get out? Though I can think of nothing I would rather do, Jenna, what about Leah? She’s having all her friends over tomorrow night. You want to crush her? Go ahead. I’ll let you do the honors while I wait here.”

  Spinning on her heels, Jenna left him. He heard her bedroom door close. Sighing, Owen continued making the sofa bed, all the while wishing he could go and sleep at Taylor’s.

  Chapter Six

  Three vacant, oily pizza boxes, five empty bottles of soda pop, and more candy wrappers than a dozen humans could consume at a Halloween party littered the dining room table. Owen shook his head at the sugar and caffeine overload that the ten year olds had ingested and wished he did have a hotel room or, better yet, Taylor’s bed to sleep in.

  Jenna could shut them out in her upstairs bedroom suite, but Owen was stuck on the ground floor with them. Sleeping bags were lying wall to wall on the carpet in Leah’s room, while the girls took turns running up and down the stairs to use the bathroom next to him.

  By eleven o’clock Owen was about to shout at the little Indians to be quiet, then reconsidered and wanted them to enjoy themselves. How many times did Leah have a slumber party? Owen couldn’t remember one in the past two years.

  After fixing his sofa bed up with his blanket and pillows, Owen’s eyes grew heavy as Saturday Night Live’s monologue began. Another sound of pitter-patter and a toilet flushing roused him from his nod. Checking his watch, seeing it was late, Owen moaned and wished he had a sleeping pill. When the noise outside his door subsided, Owen peeked out. The kitchen was dark and he knew Jenna had gone to sleep hours ago, most likely wearing earplugs. Taking that cordless phone from the hook, Owen snuck back to the den, closed the door, licking his top lip, he dialed Taylor’s number excitedly, like a little girl at a sleepover party.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi.” Owen loved the sound of his voice. Yes, there was a bit of Texas there, yes indeed. His cowboy. Yum, yum!

  “Hello, Mr. Braydon. Are you surviving the slumber party?”

  “Could use a stiff one.” When Taylor began laughing, Owen clarified, “I meant booze.”

  “Sure ya did.”

  “You believe they are still up and giggling? I’m exhausted.” Owen checked his watch again, lowering the sound on the television.

  “Can’t get any shuteye?”

  “No. Not at the moment. They keep coming down to use the toilet next to the den where I’m sleeping.”

  “You are welcome to come here.”

  Owen groaned in agony. “Oh, Taylor, you have no idea.”

  “Oh, I do, believe me.”

  In the pause between comments, Owen enjoyed listening to Taylor’s breathing. As usual he spun into a fantasy; Taylor riding a bronco, coming off all dusty and gritty, leather chaps again, love those leather chaps, gloves, hat, scarf around his neck…

  “You still there?”

  “Yes. I have erotic fantasies whenever I think of you. Sorry. Went off on one.”

  Taylor broke up with laughter. “Soon you won’t have to pretend. I’ll be in them for real.”

  “I can’t tell you how that makes me feel.”

  “Try.”

  Owen smiled so hard his cheeks ached. Another little girl must have drunk too much soda pop, because Owen heard the toilet flush again, then tiny feet leaving the area. “Sorry, someone just came used the bathroom again. Where were we?”

  “You were telling me how it makes you feel. Having the opportunity to play out your fantasies with a real live man.”

  “Was I?” Owen blushed in humiliation even though he was only talking to Taylor on the phone and not seeing his sensual expressions in person. “I don’t remember agreeing to that.”

  “Come on. How much do you want me?”

  Loving the seduction, the yearning in Taylor’s voice, Owen gave in. “Lots. I want you lots.”

  “That’s it? For all my effort, I get ‘lots’? Is that even a damn word?”

  Turning to look at the closed den door, Owen whispered, “You know how much I want you, Mr. Madison. I don’t have to tell you. If you wait until Sunday night, I can show you.”

  “You planning on tying me to your bed?”

  “Uh, I could. Whatever you want.”

  “I thought it was whatever you want?” Taylor purred.

  “We can flip a coin.”

  “Oh? Will you let me tie you up?”

  Instantly, Owen imagined himself hog-tied by his handsome cowboy, his hands and feet lassoed and sticking up in the air.

  “Owen? You must be tired. Why don’t you go to sleep?”

  “I should try.”

  “Give yourself a good orgasm. Always works for me.”

  “There’s no lock on the den door. My luck some ten year old little girl will think it’s the bathroom and see me playing with myself. Then I’ll get sued.”

  “You sure worry a lot.”

  “I know. Okay, Taylor. Let me try and get some sleep. See you at the check-in desk tomorrow evening.”

  “You will. You take care of yourself and make sure no little ones come and snuggle up with you.”

  “What?” Owen laughed.

  “I’d be jealous.”

  “Silly cowboy.”

  “Cowboy?” Taylor coughed in sarcasm.

  “Fantasy, never mind. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, partner.”

  Laughing, Owen said, “You are something.”

  “See ya, babe.”

  “Bye.” Owen disconnected the line. Peeking out to the kitchen, he was about to hang the phone on the hook, last minute, he dialed his own number to erase Taylor’s, then set the phone down and returned to the den. The TV off, the lights out, Owen imagined relieving himself sexually, but decided to hold off just in case. By one in the morning, the house finally went quiet, and he fell asleep.

  Chapter Seven

  Taylor stood near the check-in desk. His bag at his feet, he scanned the moving crowd for his man. He spotted Owen looking rushed, heading to the check-in area. Admiring Owen’s physique through his casual, designer clothing, easily imagining him nude and strutting his stuff, Taylor’s mouth watered at the sight. Just as with last Sunday night, Owen hadn’t shaved. His dark five o’clock shadow made his angular face seem more masculine and rugged. Taylor had to tell himself to calm down. The urge to rush Owen, embrace him, lift him off his feet and swing him around, kissing him passionately was almost too overwhelming to ignore.

  Owen found Taylor in the crowd and waved, making his way over to him. “Hey.” Owen dug into his jacket pocket for his ticket.

  “Hi, good looking. Come here often?” Taylor flirted as they walked to stand in line at the counter.

  “Yes. Too often.” Owen shook his head.

  “You get any sleep?”

  “I did. And I grabbed a nap this afternoon. I feel okay.”

  Taylor gestured for them to move to the woman behind the desk when she called them. Standing together, they handed her their tickets. “Two seats together?” she asked, clicking keys of a computer keyboard.

  “Yes,” Owen replied, “Window, please?”

  “Feng shui,” Taylor whispered into Owen’s ear.

  “Shut up,” Owen quipped.

  “Here you go,” she said as she handed them boarding passes. “Two bags to check?”

  “Yes.” Owen nodded, placing his, then Taylor’s bag on the conveyor-belt.

  She tagged them, stapled the stubs to their ticket pouches, then handed them their paperwork. “Enjoy your flight.”

  “Thanks.” Owen nodded his head for Taylor to move on.

  Taylor took his pass from Owen, stuffing it into his shirt pocket. “Booze?”

  “Booze,” Owen agreed.

  ~

  Getting in line for the security checkpoint, Owen waited as Taylor walked through the metal detector, then was stopped and patted down. Watching the young man in uniform rub his hands all over Taylor, Owen
swallowed in amazement and imagined doing that to Taylor in public as well. The guard did it, and no one yelled at him.

  Owen walked through next, unaccosted, slightly disappointed he didn’t rate enough to get that lovely rub down.

  ~

  As they headed to their favorite drinking establishment, the Colorado Sports Bar, Taylor couldn’t wait another minute, and dragged Owen with him to the men’s room.

  “Oh, no,” Owen muttered. “What now?”

  “I need mouth to mouth resuscitation.” Taylor looked around, knew some men were lingering, decided he didn’t care, and pushed Owen into a stall.

  “Déjà vu!” Owen laughed as he fell back against the rear wall and straddled the toilet bowl. “Did the security guy get your engines revving? Man, he was all over your ass and dick.”

  “Shut up and get over here.” Taylor cupped Owen’s rough jaw and brought their lips together. On contact, Taylor swooned at the touch of Owen’s tongue. Knowing he could easily get carried away, Taylor wrapped his arms tightly around Owen, pressing their bodies against each other like two magnets, joined at the mouth and hips.

  Taylor began humping Owen, rubbing his hard cock against Owen’s.

  ~

  Owen could hear several people in the room with them. As water flushed, ran in sinks and urinals, Owen tried to get Taylor under control. A task which took some doing. “Okay…baby…okay,” Owen tried to pause their kisses.

  “I want to fuck you,” Taylor hissed between clenched teeth, slamming his crotch against Owen’s.

  “We can, all night. I promise.” Owen laughed as Taylor’s light kisses covered his jaw and neck. “Not here. Too much security in airports now…Taylor, not here.”

  “I’m no fucking married, republican senator. I can fuck who I please.” Taylor wrapped around Owen’s waist and pressed hard against Owen’s pelvis.

  “Really? Isn’t your name Kipp Kensington?” Owen laughed, actually loving the aggressive nature of Taylor’s advances, not to mention the danger.

  “And you’re Robin-fucking-Grant.” Taylor humped Owen’s body harder.

  “You read the papers? I’m amazed.”

  Taylor paused and stared at him. “You think I’m an ignorant hick? Of course I read the fucking papers.”

  “Then you know that the cops prowl the airport toilets. Let’s get a drink and keep horny until we reach my place in LA, okay?” Owen cupped Taylor’s face gently.

  “Yeah, all right.” Taylor kissed Owen one last time, opening the stall door. Instantly Owen heard Taylor ask a stranger, “What the hell are you looking at?”

  “Okie dokie, we’re going,” Owen said, as he grabbed Taylor and dragged him out before they got arrested.

  Once they were back on track for the bar, Owen shook his head at Taylor and said, “You are trouble. Trouble with a capital T.”

  “Me?” Taylor asked in shock. “What’d I do?”

  “Me?” Owen imitated him, “I didn’t do nothin’.”

  “You mocking my Texas accent? I told you I got rid of that accent.”

  “You didn’t, Tex. I hear it more and more.” Owen winked at him. “And I love it.”

  “You love it?”

  “Yeah, cowboy.”

  “Stop calling me a cowboy.” Taylor exhaled in exasperation. “I swear when I get you alone, you will be sorry.”

  “I can’t wait.” After a long line, Owen finally stood at the bar, asking Taylor, “Guinness?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Nodding, Owen ordered two, trying to broaden his horizons. After all, he’d tried anal sex and that wasn’t bad at all.

  “You got a Guinness?” Taylor asked when Owen held one in each hand. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Mr. Chardonnay.” Taylor took one of the glasses from him.

  They sat at what was becoming their usual table and Taylor paused before he drank his, saying, “Go on, try it.”

  Owen licked his lips, sipping the black beer. White foam stayed on his top lip, which he lapped off. “Not bad.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “No. It’s smooth. I thought it would taste like shit.”

  “Unreal.” Taylor drank his. “I hear it tastes better in Ireland.”

  “We’ll have to go and find out.”

  A look of delight came into Taylor’s eyes. “Yes! Travel with me. Holy Christ, Owen, you have no idea how long I’ve waited for a partner to travel with.”

  “Yeah?” Owen lit up, sipping more beer.

  “Let’s plan something. The minute this job is done, I can take a break. Fuck my dad. He’s got to give me some time off.”

  “We have to go before my tax season starts. So the sooner the better.”

  “Right, right,” Taylor nodded, as if acknowledging it.

  “So? Ireland?” Owen asked.

  “Yes. Let’s do all the U.K. I’ve never been there.”

  “I went to England when I was younger. It was with my parents. I didn’t have a very good time.”

  “What were you like as a kid, Owen?” Taylor’s eyes had that mischievous twinkle to them that made Owen laugh.

  “An ugly freak. Don’t ask.”

  “No way. You?”

  “Yeah. I had braces, I was fat…never mind. So, London? Then we’ll rent a car and drive to Wales, Ireland, and Scotland?”

  “Yes!” Taylor sat up as if he was ready to book the flights right now.

  “Okay.” Owen sighed. “I can’t wait. You’re so much damn fun.”

  “Ditto, my baby, ditto.” Taylor took another deep gulp of the beer. “We can hit all the pubs all the way up, make it a pub venture.”

  “Okay.” Owen smiled at Taylor’s zeal. “I take it one of us will have to drive on the left-hand side of the road.”

  “No big deal. I’m not intimidated by that shit.”

  “Good!” Owen heard their call to board. “That’s us.” He chugged the rest of his beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then burped.

  Taylor broke up with laughter. “I adore you, I swear, I adore you.”

  “Finish your beer, cowpoke.”

  Taylor gave Owen a sly look for the comment, downing the beer in one gulp. Imitating Owen, Taylor wiped his mouth, then belched.

  Owen roared in hilarity, falling off the chair and holding his stomach.

  “Come on, Owen. Let’s go.” Taylor grabbed Owen’s arm and began leading them in the right direction.

  Owen couldn’t believe how strong the beer was. It went right to his head. Trying to appear sober, knowing being drunk could get you banned from the flight, he kept his mouth shut until he and Taylor were seated in their places on the plane. Finally he turned to Taylor and whispered, “Christ, I got one mean head-buzz from that shit.”

  “Strong, ain’t it?”

  “Shit yeah. You drunk?”

  “No, missy, I ain’t drunk. But you sure as hell are. Don’t embarrass me, darlin’.”

  “I won’t.” Owen looked around the area they were sitting in. “Where’s the damn blanket?”

  Taylor began laughing again.

  Finding the sealed plastic bag, Owen tore off the cover and spread out the blue flannel over both their laps. “Give it to me, come on,” Owen urged.

  Taylor pushed the arm between them up into the seat, spreading his legs as Owen’s fingers walked under cover across Taylor’s thigh to his nuts. “We’re not even on the runway, and you’re already assaulting my penis.”

  “You love it,” Owen hissed, looking around again. Everyone was still busy loading their luggage and finding their seats. “You know what, Mr. Taylor Madison?”

  “Yes, Mr. Drunk-Owen Braydon?”

  “You have a very big dick.”

  Taylor choked in shock and looked around. One older woman peered over her shoulder at them, raising an eyebrow in admonishment. After Taylor smiled shyly at her, he whispered through the side of his mouth to Owen, “Remind me not to get you a Guinness before the plane ride again.”


  “What’s your middle name, Taylor Madison?” Owen leaned on Taylor’s shoulder, massaging Taylor’s cock gently under the blanket.

  “If I tell ya, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  “Come on, please? Mine’s Devin, how much worse can it be than that?”

  “Worse.”

  “You let me stick my dick up your butt, but you won’t tell me your middle name? How weird is that?”

  Taylor cringed, looking at the same woman. She made a “hurmph” sound before she sat down and turned her back on them.

  “Tell me.” Owen cupped Taylor’s crotch tightly.

  Taylor jumped at the touch, then sighed. “Austin.”

  “Austin? Like in Austin, Texas?”

  “Yes. Shut up.” Taylor shifted in the chair.

  “What’s wrong with that?” Owen liked the way it sounded. He said it in his head a few times then whispered, “Austin, my cowboy, grrrrr…”

  “Sit up. Wait ‘til we’re airborne to assault me.” Taylor eyed the passengers walking passed their seat as they all took a gander at the two of them in curiosity.

  “That doesn’t sound like the Taylor Austin Madison I know.” Owen sat back, moving his hands to his own lap, on top of the blanket.

  “I know. Just too many people are staring at us. You know me, I’ll pick a fight with one of them.” Taylor reached for Owen’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry.”

  Sobering up slightly, Owen said, “No need to be sorry, Taylor. Believe me, right now I respect your judgment, mine’s impaired.”

  “No wine for you, Owen,” Taylor warned. “You’re driving us home.”

  “Yes. You’re right. I am.” Sitting up straight, Owen behaved himself; that is, until Taylor told him to meet him in the bathroom.

  ~

  Taylor woke up after nodding off on Owen’s shoulder. Announcements were made for the impending arrival and landing. Shaking his head to clear it, Taylor sat up and put the seatback upright as instructed. Glancing over at Owen, he found him yawning and stretching his back. “I’m telling, ya, Owen, all this sex is making me sleepy.”

  “Yes, you’re right. No more orgasms for you mid-day.”

  “Shut up.” Taylor smiled at him.

 

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