Marie Harte - [PowerUp! 08]

by Killer Thoughts

  “Well, your warehouse thief has done PowerUp! a favor. You’ve paid through the nose for our services, but hey, we’ve gotten a ton of your crap back for you.”

  “True.” Owen smiled. Ian wore smug well. “And now Carl is on the run because your team did its job. Aidan and Gavin were exceptional in finding Chronicles. And Heather, well…” He still couldn’t believe his gentle sister had taken on murderers in a foreign country to preserve the book. Had he known about the danger, he never would have allowed it. But she’d come back and brought both herself and the book home in one piece, and that was all that mattered.

  “Heather is getting married to Jack.” Ian made a face. “I’m still waiting for her to soften him up. Hell, we all are.”

  Owen chuckled. “Jack is Jack. Gruff, mean, but loyal.” His grin faded. “Loyalty is something you should never take for granted.”

  “I’ll bet.” Ian looked a bit too understanding for comfort. Too knowing.

  “Damn it. Who told you?”

  Ian shrugged. “Not sure what you’re talking about.” Yet the cautious expression in his eyes said otherwise.

  Scooting back from the table, Owen stood and grabbed Ian by the back of his shirt. He dragged the man to his feet, then manhandled him over his shoulder and carried him from the room. He nodded at Tim, who didn’t so much as twitch at the sight of Owen hauling Ian from the kitchen and down the hall toward the back stairs.

  “What the fuck?”

  Ian struggled to get free, and Owen slapped him on the ass.

  “You did not just spank me.”

  “Oh yes, I did.” Owen was tired of having people turn on him. He wanted to know who had tipped Ian off about Harry. And since the little thief wouldn’t answer without being forced, Owen figured the time had come to see just what Ian was made of.

  IAN DANGLED BEHIND Owen, getting a fine view of the man’s tight ass. Especially in those mouthwatering shorts. Yet being carted around like a sack of potatoes didn’t sit right. It was sexy as hell but so out of character for the stern yet laid-back Owen.

  Ian knew Harry’s defection had hurt, but he wasn’t supposed to know anything about it. So he pretended to be clueless. He hadn’t meant to let it slip that he knew anything. Stupid. Getting caught up in Owen’s deep voice and that beautiful mouth had thrown him.

  He struggled to get free, but Owen’s arms were like a steel trap. When the hell had the bazillionaire become so inhumanly strong? Granted, the guy was probably a good fifty to seventy pounds heavier and had more height and muscle, but jeez, he made Ian feel like a friggin’ girl.

  “Get off. This is sexual harassment,” Ian tried, feeling dizzy when they went upstairs. Did nothing slow this guy down?

  “Not yet. But it’s going to be.”

  Registering what Owen said, Ian’s dick went from semihard to full-out erect. Being so close to Owen had its typical effect, arousing him. But the thought that Owen might want Ian back, sexually, was like a fantasy come to life.

  Ian had been whacking off to carnal thoughts of Owen for months. He’d never imagined the sexy guy might want him back. Not that Ian wasn’t pretty enough, because he had to-die-for blue eyes and a sexy bod. He knew that. But Owen had never seemed particularly gay to him. A sad state of affairs, but one Ian had accepted.

  Was he wrong.

  Owen walked into his master suite and shut and locked the door behind him. The short snick echoed in Ian’s muddled brain. He recognized the bedroom from having snooped in Owen’s house previously. He liked the muted blues and browns, the king-size bed, and the tasteful, modern, dark chocolate furniture. Unfortunately he hadn’t had the time to snoop through Owen’s boudoir, but he’d bet the hottie had a kinky streak. I mean, he’s carrying me like a caveman and acting all dominant. He’s got to be a freak in the sack.

  He squirmed against Owen’s shoulder. “Let go, damn it.”

  “Not yet, thief.”

  Ian did his best not to shudder with pleasure. He loved when Owen called him that. Like an endearment, but more personal than baby or sweetie. And it fit, because Owen had caught him red-handed right before Linda Cavendish tried to kill him four months ago.

  Owen tossed him onto the bed, and Ian scrambled to leave. Before he could move, he found himself cuffed and strung up like a sacrificial virgin. “What the hell?” Ian tugged at the cuffs affixed to chains bolted into the headboard. How had he missed those the last time he’d been by?

  “I had them installed a few weeks ago. After your visit, of course.” Owen smiled, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “Now you’re going to tell me how you knew about Harry.”

  “I, uh…”

  Owen removed his shoes, and Ian watched, frozen, as the bigger man stripped him of his socks and then moved to his shorts. They’d come straight from the gym, so it wasn’t as if Ian wore layers of clothing. Embarrassing, because his dick stood out like a pike under that friggin’ nylon. Typically, Ian handled his lovers. They didn’t handle him. But Owen was different from the rest, in ways that unnerved Ian more than he felt comfortable admitting, even to himself.

  Owen gripped him hard, and Ian nearly shot off the bed.

  “Okay, now that’s sexual harassment,” he rasped when he settled back on the bed. His voice sounded shrill, and he hated the fact that he was hard and aching beneath Owen’s firm hand.

  “Harry?” Owen said again, his eyes mean.

  Oh shit. Ian felt Owen’s palm slide against his dampening shorts. “I saw the pattern, okay?” came out in a rush. “I was going to tell you he wasn’t right. I’d gone through some, um, financial documents and e-mails of his the last time I was here.” Ian sucked in a breath when Owen stroked him. “Jesus.”

  “And?” Owen didn’t smile, laugh, or change the inflection of his voice.

  Damn if that cool control didn’t make Ian want to come all over him. He pushed harder into Owen’s palm, overjoyed when Owen started jerking him off through his clothes.

  “And I saw something…wrong. Harry was… Shit, Owen. Rub faster.” So of course the bastard slowed down. To Ian’s satisfaction, though, Owen sported some major wood.

  “And?”

  “And I went to Avery with what I thought.” Avery, the team’s prognosticator, a man who could see the future. “I asked him to focus for me, and he saw men try to kill you. They didn’t succeed. And then Tim was there, taking a bullet,” he said on a whimper when Owen slid his thumb over Ian’s slit.

  Fuck, he was so wet. The thin fabric of his shorts looked damp, and he’d soaked his underwear. Oh God, in Owen’s own hand. Talk about a fantasy of epic proportions. Now if Owen would just take Ian’s shorts down and put his sexy mouth over Ian’s cock, Ian’s life would be complete.

  Owen let him go. “So you knew but didn’t help me?”

  Ian moaned. “I wanted to, but Avery told me not to interfere. I’d screw things up if I did, and you and Tim had it handled. If I did something, I might have killed you.”

  Owen narrowed his gaze, his scrutiny intense.

  Hopefully, he saw something good, because Ian was on fire to fuck. “Come on, dude. I did you a favor. I didn’t help, and we’re all good. I don’t suppose you’ll blow me?” Sure, he sounded overly hopeful. But a guy could dream.

  To his amazement, the star of his daily fantasies didn’t say no. Instead, Owen stood and removed his clothing. Every last stitch, until he stood naked and hung like a fucking horse in front of Ian.

  Ian tugged at his wrists, still constrained to the headboard. He wanted to touch that golden flesh, feel the warmth of skin against his palms. Like Ian, Owen had little chest hair. And what he did have was a golden blond, fine and so pretty around Owen’s hard nipples.

  “Come on, sexy. Stop teasing,” Ian rasped.

  “You’ve been a good boy,” Owen said. “So you deserve a treat, don’t you?”

  “I knew you’d be into kink.” He’d read that one right.

  “You need discipline.”

 
Uh-oh. “Um, wait. I meant kink-y, not like, full-on D/s shit.”

  Owen’s grin scared the hell out of him…and nearly made him come.

  “Now, now, my little thief. I think we can come to an understanding, don’t you?”

  Owen tugged Ian’s shorts and underwear off, then lifted Ian’s shirt to his armpits, exposing his chest, which was much less impressive than Owen’s. Ian had some muscle but not much.

  Trying to gain control over the situation, Ian tried again. He cleared his throat and prayed he sounded less hoarse than he thought he did. “So, Owen. You were telling me about the Kerrs. Jacob and Henry left. Carl…he wants to kill you, right?”

  “We’ll discuss him later. Right now I need to fill your mouth. You talk too much, thief.”

  Then, to Ian’s simultaneous horror and pleasure, Owen knelt on the bed and crawled to Ian’s side. He straddled Ian’s torso and walked on his knees up Ian’s body until his heavy balls rested over Ian’s mouth.

  “That’s right, little thief. Time for you to steal from me again. How about this time, you take some pleasure, hmm?” Owen lowered himself over Ian.

  “N-no condom?”

  “No. I trust you keep yourself clean. Do you trust me?”

  “You’re too controlling and careful to take a chance like that. Bastard.” Ian’s mouth watered. He so wanted a piece of this man, especially when Owen gave him a mean smile.

  “Well, boy? Get to it.”

  Ian was helpless to resist. He opened his mouth and sucked.

  Chapter Three

  Owen had lost his fucking mind, but feeling Ian’s warm mouth over his sac was too right to resist. He’d dreamed about owning Ian for months. Now he’d make it a reality.

  He moaned, unable to resist, as Ian expertly applied pressure to his balls. The light suck, the gentle scrape of teeth, and when his thief moaned his own pleasure, Owen couldn’t help himself. He rocked while Ian alternated sucking both balls. Then he moved back and angled his cock down, wanting to feel and see Ian swallow him. No condom, just skin-to-skin sex.

  Ian didn’t protest, his slumberous expression one Owen committed to memory. A hank of his blue-black hair covered one eye, softening his face. But those plump lips, so soft and slick, moist with saliva, gave Owen a thrill. And maybe soon, some cum. So much better than my dreams.

  Owen pushed just his cockhead between Ian’s lips and watched his lover suck, hollowing his cheeks until Owen’s eyes nearly crossed. He pumped short thrusts into the furnace of Ian’s mouth, and the man’s tongue lashed him until he was a hairbreadth from coming. No control, just pure, unadulterated pleasure. A rush to the end. Too soon…

  “No,” Owen rasped, pulling out. “Not yet.”

  Ian groaned. “Quit being a cock tease.”

  Owen took a breath and let it out slowly. He mastered. He controlled. So how the hell had he let some smart-mouthed con artist nearly blow more than his mind?

  He left the bed and looked down at Ian. The shirt had to go. He moved to his bed stand and took out a pair of scissors and a tube of lube—smart. He ignored the condom—not smart. But he was clean, and he knew for a fact that Ian had recently received a clean bill of health from his doctor. Despite wanting to appear like a slut—and he wore the moniker proudly—Ian wasn’t promiscuous. Owen had kept tabs on the younger man, and today he’d reap the pleasure from his surveillance.

  Using the scissors and ignoring the sudden worry on Ian’s face, he cut through the thin T-shirt.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  Yet Ian’s fear didn’t translate into a lessening of arousal. If anything, his cock bobbed with approval, still thick and wet and waiting.

  “Getting you naked. As a member of my staff, you should be presentable.” Owen grinned at the curses coming from Ian’s mouth. After cutting the shirt from Ian’s fine body, he put the scissors back and grabbed the lube.

  “Hold on.” Ian tried to act firm, but then he licked his lips, unable to hide his excitement.

  “Oh, I’m holding on. Barely,” Owen muttered with a hard laugh. “You, my little thief, need discipline. Good thing Sir is here to give it to you.” Why not add to the fantasy? The Dom thing might be pushing it, and Owen didn’t need it to find pleasure. But with Ian, he more than wanted to challenge the stubborn younger man.

  Ian groaned. “Are you kidding me? Sir? Really? I was kidding about the kink thing.”

  He tugged halfheartedly at his bonds, and Owen knew it. The sexy thief might pretend he didn’t like being tied up, but his body didn’t lie.

  “Let me go.”

  “After.” Owen greased his cock, putting a liberal amount on. He had no idea how tight Ian might be. But he couldn’t wait to find out. He moved to the bed once more and knelt between Ian’s thighs. Propping his lover up, he tilted Ian’s hips and angled his cockhead at Ian’s tight entrance.

  “Oh man. You going to rape me, boss?” Ian sneered.

  Owen gripped Ian’s thighs and rested himself at the entrance to Ian’s hole. Fuck, he was hot. “Rape, hmm? Well, boy. Tell me. Should I let you go? Do you want me to leave you alone?” Owen didn’t move, though he wanted nothing more than to ram deep and come.

  Ian squirmed, trying to impale himself on Owen, but Owen wouldn’t let him. No way he’d tolerate Ian pretending to be forced. Oh, they could play the force stuff later. But right now, Ian had to make a choice. Owen knew for a fact he hadn’t read his boy wrong, but he wanted Ian to admit the truth.

  “Well?” Owen pulled back, regretting the loss of heat from Ian’s body. But before he could move completely away, Ian trapped him with his strong thighs.

  “No.”

  Owen raised a brow and didn’t move.

  Ian swallowed convulsively. “No, Sir.”

  “What do you want, exactly?”

  “I want you.”

  “Ah. Better.” Owen placed himself back at Ian’s entrance, taken with his lover’s flushed face and nipples. Those pretty buds standing on end, needing a good bite. Or better yet, with studs through them. Ian would look beautiful with his nipples pierced. “What do you really want? Tell me, little thief.” Keeping himself still but for the tip of his cock at Ian’s entrance nearly killed him. Ian groaned and bucked, but Owen wouldn’t be pushed.

  “Shit. I want you, Owen, Sir, whatever you want to be called. I want to feel that fat, juicy cock up my ass.” Ian moaned and twisted his hips, and Owen’s cockhead pushed into Ian the slightest bit. “Please.”

  “You don’t beg well. But you will.” Owen decided to end their torment, because by damn, he had to have Ian. Now.

  Slowly sliding into Ian’s ass was like heaven. Ian gloved him, the tight grip of his flesh too good to deny.

  “Fuck. You’re so tight.” Owen groaned and continued to push until his balls were flush against Ian’s ass. “Your cock is still so hard. And pearly at the tip. You hungry for it, boy?”

  Ian nodded, his eyes nearly closed as he gasped his pleasure. “Oh yeah. Fuck me. God, make me burn. I need to come so bad.”

  Owen retreated, then slowly pushed back inside. He watched Ian’s ecstatic expression and experimented by shifting his angle to see what his thief liked best. When he found Ian’s hot spot, he took Ian’s cock in hand and started jerking him off.

  “Oh fuck. Oh fuck, yes. Yes, please,” Ian cried and jetted all over his belly.

  He made a mess as Owen took him harder, incredibly moved by Ian’s raw sexuality. But when Ian clamped so hard with his ass, Owen couldn’t stop himself. He let go of Ian’s cock and slid his fingers through Ian’s cum.

  He fucked him faster, nearing his end. “Taste yourself,” he ordered and lifted his finger to Ian’s mouth. All the while, he continued to fuck his boy harder, taking purchase in every gasp and groan.

  And then Ian sucked his finger, laving it with his tongue. And Owen remembered that mouth around his cock. The thought of filling those beautiful lips, watching this gorgeous man accept such pleasure, had his disciplin
e careening out of control. Owen thrust once more and cried out, coming hard.

  He spurted, the rush of bliss taking everything but pleasure from his mind and body.

  After a few moments, he felt Ian’s legs stroking the back of his thighs. He blinked down to see Ian staring up at him with what looked like awe. But when Ian saw him staring, his expression changed, growing sly.

  “Was it good for you…Daddy?”

  Owen barked a laugh, which seated him deeper and caused them both to shiver. “Please. I’m no one’s daddy…boy. You call me Sir. Or Master if you like.”

  “God. No Master. I can barely handle Sir. I don’t do authority.”

  Ian’s mutiny looked adorable.

  “Oh?” Owen pulled away, the slide of his semierect cock evident by the look of ecstasy on Ian’s face. “Because you did me.”

  “Funny.”

  “I think you liked me being in charge.”

  “Maybe. Just in bed, though, so don’t think you can boss me around all the time.” Ian arched his hips up, trying to keep Owen inside.

  “Mmm-hmm.” Owen withdrew and left to go to the bathroom. After cleaning himself up, he returned to handle Ian. Bathing the cum from his lover’s body, taking care of him, felt right. Too right. He cleared his throat and moved to undo the cuffs around Ian’s wrists. One flick of a button and they opened.

  He lay next to Ian on his back. To his pleasure, Ian rested on his side, propped on his elbow, leaning toward him.

  “Hey.”

  Ian frowned, but Owen saw the spark of amusement.

  “I could have released them myself.”

  “But you didn’t.” That a man as sharp as Ian hadn’t even tried spoke volumes. “Now, let’s be honest. You need my cock buried up that ass as much as I need you taking it. It’s been building between us for months. So say it with me. In bed, Owen is in charge. Like you mean it, boy.” Owen used his mean voice, and Ian responded.

  He let out a breath and snapped a smart-ass salute. “Yes, Sir. In bed, you’re in charge.”

  “Ian.”

  Ian lifted a finger and drew it over Owen’s chest. “And if you want me to blow you, anytime, you just have to ask.”