Things that Go Bump in the Night

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Things that Go Bump in the Night Page 28

by BA Tortuga


  Keye took Jake inside, got his shoes off, his big overshirt. Then he pushed the guy down on the big bed. “Sleep.”

  Huge eyes stared at him for a second. “Sleep.”

  “Yup. Close your eyes and breathe. I’ll keep it quiet.”

  Jake moved his lips, forming the word quiet, before crashing like a lead balloon.

  Keye covered him with a light blanket, shaking his head. Jesus, he couldn’t imagine being that wound up. He’d let the guy sleep for as long as Jake needed.

  Then they’d have to set about seeing why a certain mob boss wanted Keye dead.

  HE WOKE up at dawn, eyes searching the place. Where? Where? God, what had he done?

  Jake slipped from the bed and headed for the door, trusting his body to get him moving before his brain woke up enough to remind him what the fuck he was up to. Except that his body had him veering off to the bathroom so he could pee. Dude.

  He felt like he peed for maybe an hour, an hour and a half, before heading for the shower. Water. Water would be good. He loved the feel of water on him. Water was quiet, unless there were fish. If there were fish, he couldn’t guarantee anything.

  Fish were different.

  Soapy and wet, Jake hummed and scrubbed. Then almost jumped out of his skin when a voice came from the other side of the curtain. “You want your waffles heated up?”

  All of a sudden it came back to him—Gianni. Traveling. Toast. Coffee.

  Tall, white-blond, hot, and with the faux cow thoughts.

  “I didn’t hear you.” How hadn’t he heard anything?

  He looked out the curtain. Oh. Yummy. Strong and stacked with a belly tight enough to bounce quarters off of. Damn. Had the man been walking sex at the diner? Or was that new?

  “No worries. You were singing a little. So, waffles? Or eggs and bacon?”

  “No bacon. I can’t. I wish I could, but pigs are like dogs. Meaner. Bitchier. But dogs. Kind of.”

  “Okay.” Keye peeked at him, smiled a little. “You’re not as skinny as you look.”

  “I wear big clothes. It helps.” Random stuff could make a guy crazy. Really crazy, not just a little eccentric crazy.

  “Right. Well, I’ll go get breakfast.” Keye closed the curtain and headed off, and again, it was like being with a ghost.

  He finished washing, then looked at his clothes and shook his head. Gross. He grabbed them and slipped on his sandals, walking naked to his car. There were clean clothes in there.

  “Are you naked?” Keye stuck his head out the door to the cabin. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting clean clothes. I have some.” Not a lot, but enough. And enough was good. He was a fan of enough. It was just the right amount.

  “Oh.” Keye watched him all the way inside, only stepping back enough to let him in. He had to slide a little against that big body.

  He put his mostly clean jeans, briefs, and T-shirt on. “Better.”

  “That’s debatable.” The food smelled good, and Keye dished him up waffles and eggs.

  His world was a better place with a little sleep, a chance to breathe. The constant bombardment had eased, backed off. “Thanks, man.”

  “Not a problem. Least I can do for someone who didn’t kill me.”

  He chuckled, worried at the hint of sarcasm in the man’s thoughts. “I’m not a killer.” It was—unnecessary.

  “I am.” The words were flat, bald. The truth.

  He tilted his head. It was good to know yourself, Jake supposed, because otherwise you ended up working in a cubicle when you were meant to be a mercenary, and that led to ulcers. “I know. It’s a little creepy, but I guess it’s that cow-lizard thing.” Keye wanted to believe he had a cow brain—still and slow—but it was all lizard, all the time. Well, less with the bugs. At least so far. Every time they’d seen each other, there’d been food, so maybe Keye didn’t have to think bug thoughts.

  Keye just… well, he didn’t smile, but those hazel eyes crinkled up at the corners in the best way.

  “I like your eyes.” Hopefully no one would kill Keye for a while. Jake figured they’d wait at least a few days before sending someone else.

  “Thanks. Syrup?” Keye sat next to him at the shabby little table, elbow right next to his.

  “Sure.” Their elbows touched and his eyes crossed. Being caught in Keye’s stream of consciousness was like watching a Kurosawa film on fast forward. Maybe like listening to the Who and Pink Floyd at the same time, backward.

  Definitely lizard. Not cow. Wow. What Keye was planning to do to a certain mafia boss….

  Ew. Fingers were… necessary. Especially for guitar playing.

  “I should probably go, find a place.” Maybe a bingo parlor instead of a casino.

  “This is a place.”

  “Yes.” It was hard to argue with that kind of logic, really. The thoughts sliding through Keye were slippery, making his eyes cross.

  “Just sit and eat and breathe, man.” Keye touched him for a moment with his full hand, and instead of being lizard-lizard, suddenly everything went still.

  “Oh.” He took a deep breath, the sensation almost orgasmic.

  “Waffles.” Keye motioned with his free hand, and Jake nodded, beginning to eat. It was like moving in slow motion, but it was amazingly good. He hummed as he ate, the waffles not crispy anymore, but good, sweet. He liked sweet foods, always had. He thought the world should be made out of chocolate sometimes. Except that chocolate guitar strings would be weird. And sticky. And not particularly musical.

  He wasn’t sure chocolate was musical.

  “Not to mention that a chocolate world would melt,” Keye murmured.

  “Exactly. The licking would be fun, though. Sleeping would be weird, and how would you drive?”

  Keye’s eyes crinkled up again, the man licking syrup off his lower lip, which made Jake think about licking again. Yum.

  He considered, idly, asking Keye if a quickie was totally out of the question—the man kept thinking about his cock, his ass, and, while it wasn’t a sunshine-and-roses type of thought, sometimes those thoughts that were more whiskey and moonshine were way more fun. On the other hand, having wild, passionate monkey sex—which, okay, icky-poo—with a guy you were supposed to either be killing or running away from was probably stupid. On the other-other hand, Keye had been totally rocking good to him.

  “You’re thinking hard, magic man. Something you’re wanting?”

  “I was thinking about giving you a blowjob, maybe getting a nice fuck. It’s been a while. That sort of thing can be awkward for me.”

  “Fucking? Do people rate your performance in their heads or something?” Keye reached out while he spoke, took Jake’s fork away, grabbed Jake’s arm, and tugged.

  “Sometimes, yes, but mostly I get lost.”

  “Lost?”

  Jake ended up turning and sitting on Keye’s lap, Keye’s hands on his hips.

  “Uh-huh.” He groaned as his hands landed on Keye’s shoulders. Broad. Solid. The hidden strength there was fascinating. “Hi.”

  “Hey. I like blowjobs.” Those fingers pushed in against his skin, testing his resiliency.

  “Who doesn’t? Blowjobs are amazing things.” His eyes crossed, and he hummed. “I like to suck. I know, most guys don’t admit it, but why be queer if you don’t like a nice prick in your mouth? Do you have a nice prick?”

  “Why don’t you get it out and see?” Keye’s voice dropped to a happy rumble, slow and Southern and melting hot. That was almost absolutely a good sign. Men with issues started blustering or making apologies right about now.

  He didn’t have to do either. His cock was perfectly acceptable. In fact, Jake liked it a lot.

  He opened Keye’s jeans, fingers trailing along a happily growing bulge. Oh yeah. Long but not too long, nice and thick, Keye was a joy to behold. Licking his lips, he measured the fat cock with his fingers, base to tip. He could feel the blood thump in it, hear a low groan building up in Keye’s chest. Keye shifted be
neath him, exposed skin hot and good, hand squeezing his butt.

  He scooted up, rubbing along Keye’s cock as he moved. He was sort of going the wrong way, but it felt so good.

  Those big hands helped him, yanking him up so he rubbed against Keye’s belly. Oh, that was right—in that “waking up on a cold morning in your favorite pajamas” sort of way.

  “Of course, I like rubbing off too.” Keye chuckled, actually laughed, and tugged at his pants.

  “If we weren’t in a hurry, we could do both.” But they should be—in a hurry.

  “Why are we in a hurry, magic?” That hand got inside his pants, got his cock out too, so Keye could push them together.

  “Aren’t people trying to kill you?” His eyes crossed again, a rush of pure heat hitting him like a tsunami in some country he’d never be able to spell.

  “Just you, far as I can tell.” Keye stroked him a little, up and down, experimenting.

  “No…. No, I was sent. I never…. Oh, right there.” Calluses. Men with calluses were like gifts from Gay Santa.

  Keye laughed. “Well, then. I’m not in any hurry.”

  Confidence. He liked it. Not as much as the way Keye’s thumb worked the tip of his cock, as the way that rough touch made the muscles by his neck clench and squeeze.

  “Sensitive. I bet folks don’t touch you much.” Keye’s other hand slid down to cup his balls.

  “No. No. It’s awk….” He arched, Keye’s touch soft as a feather, with the promise of pure strength. Yum.

  People wanted to kill this man? They should build him a shrine and set him up for life with all the men who needed to be loved on as bad as Jake did. This was like a triple chocolate brownie sundae and a joint. One of those really good joints from Hawaii. A big one. A big fat one.

  Mmm. Fat one.

  Keye’s thumb scraped over the tip of his cock again, pressing against the slit, bringing him back to the moment.

  “Yes.” He hissed the word out. He couldn’t help it. That burn bloomed right at the base of his skull.

  “Mmm. You smell good, magic. You really do.”

  He nodded; he got that. You had to like it, the way a dude smelled. Fucking somebody stinky didn’t work. Pheromones. It was a thing. Oh fuck. Please don’t stop.

  Keye wasn’t stopping. In fact, the man was stroking him harder and leaning down to gnaw on his neck a little.

  He managed to keep rubbing back, making sure to slide against Keye, keep the heat and want moving between them. It worked pretty well, because Keye was moving under him, starting to pant.

  His fingers kept finding fascinating scars, exploring them for a second before stuttering off to find something else, chasing their orgasms. Keye’s muscles were fascinating too, long and almost bulky, but not heavy like a weight lifter. The man’s body was extremely well designed. Flashes of fast cars and jaguars and horses flashed through his mind, so fast he barely registered them, but it was okay. Things were getting faster and faster, his brain zooming to keep up with his cock.

  It was impossible. He was going to go off like a bottle rocket. Any second.

  Fireworks blasted up his spine, his head slamming back as a rush of pure Keye hit him.

  “Fuck.” Keye grunted, and the man came for him, body jerking hard enough that Jake bounced.

  “Yeah….” His eyes rolled back in his head, his teeth rattling.

  “Pretty, magic man. Real pretty.” Keye rubbed their come into Jake’s skin, making him jerk again. His brain slowed down, or tried to, his thoughts caught in Keye’s. Keye was a pretty happy guy right at the moment. Sort of like a rumbly bear, ready to hibernate. All of a sudden. Boom.

  Hibernating was good.

  He could rest for a second. Just a second.

  Just.

  Just.

  KEYE CHUCKLED, easing Jake up against his chest so he could stand and carry the man back to the bed. Someone was beat. He put Jake down and tucked the blanket around him. If his magic man got restless, Keye would come back and lie down with him, but for now he needed to make a call.

  He headed outside with his cell and dialed Sylvia, his contact, who also happened to be his third cousin and a hell of a shooter herself.

  The phone was picked up on the first ring. “Hello, dear heart.”

  “Hey. How’s the love of my life?” Truth be told, Syl was a bitch from hell who would cut his balls off if he actually touched her with a ten-foot pole, but he did adore her. “Do you remember some mob guy in Vegas?”

  “Mob guy? Which one? We pulled a job for one about three years ago. Italian fellow. Very quiet. Never even hit the papers.”

  “Yeah. Marco something. He’s put a hit out on me.”

  “No shit? Who’d they send?” He could hear her fingers flying over the keyboard.

  “Well, that’s the fun part.” He checked his back, but Beauty was obviously still sleeping. “He sent this squirrely feller who reads minds.”

  “They did what? A mind reader? Did they drug you?”

  “Nope. He came to me in a diner.” The very thought made him want to laugh.

  “I. Wow. Do you need cleanup?”

  “Nope. I brought him with me. I got this feeling he’ll give a great blowjob.”

  “You…. Now, Keye, dear heart, you’re thinking with your dick again.” She clucked at him.

  “Yes, ma’am. He couldn’t kill me, though, and he knows all this shit about me.” Too much shit to just let him walk off.

  “What kind of shit?” He could hear her frown.

  “My real name, for one. A lot of shit, honey.” Only two people who were not him knew that stuff, and one of them was Sylvia.

  Sylvia’s growl ripped through the phone. Man, someone was pissed. “You want a ticket to Vegas?”

  “Not yet.” He grinned. She would rip someone’s balls off for him. It was awesome. “I’ll suss this guy out first.”

  “You be careful. I’m not your leak, Keye.” No. No, she wouldn’t. Keye trusted the old bitch implicitly.

  “I know, baby girl. You got my back.” He lowered his voice. “Someone knows this much about me, though, they might know about you. You might think about moving the operation.”

  “You got it. I’ll move to the secondary number. Give me two days, I’ll have us relocated.”

  “Keep me posted, lady. I’ll let you know if I need transport to Vegas.” She was amazingly organized. She’d have scorched earth in ten hours.

  “You know it. Take care of yourself.” The phone went dead.

  Keye clicked his phone off and headed back inside to check on Jake.

  Jake wasn’t in the bed. Wasn’t in the bathroom. Or outside. Well, now. No windows had been opened, there was only one door, and Keye had been standing in front of it. So. He checked the one closet, then went to look under the bed.

  There he was, curled in a tiny ball, sound asleep.

  Huh. Poor guy must have woken up a little disoriented. Or, hey, who knew? Maybe the guy slept like that all the time.

  He reached out, one finger touching the guy’s wrist, and Jake started moving toward him. He waited for the man to scootch close enough, which didn’t take long. Then he pulled Jake out and put him back on the bed. Wouldn’t hurt to rest with the guy a little while.

  The lean body curled into him, the soft moan vibrating against his throat. That was so weird. Generally people distrusted him if they got close enough.

  This one, though, he pushed close, hands on his belly. Keye hummed, loving the feel of that hot body against him.

  “Music.” Jake murmured the word, nuzzling his jaw.

  “Huh?” He wasn’t playing music, was he?

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to worry.”

  “Worry about what, magic man?”

  “Music. That’s my job.”

  “Is that what you do?” Keye thought that made sense.

  Jake nodded. “I do. All the time.”

  “Well, there you go. I’ll let you do it.”

  “Ok
ay.” Jake’s lips wrapped around one of his nipples, the suction lazy and slow. Oh shit. That felt fucking amazing, and Keye rocked into the contact. There was soft, satisfied humming surrounding his flesh, tongue sliding over his skin. Definitely music. It added a nice vibration, and that little buzz went straight to his balls.

  He reached down, stroking Jake from ass to shoulders and back again. Such fine skin. Jake sucked harder, pulling at his nipple. His skin beaded up with goose bumps, his breath coming faster. God, this man was a little firecracker.

  They tussled a little, because he wanted Jake on top. He wanted to be able to watch and feel it all.

  “No problem. I’m not shy.” Jake slipped on top of him, arms bracketing his head.

  “No? You may be the world’s most perfect fuck, magic.”

  Jake chuckled. “Wouldn’t that be handy?”

  “It would. My own personal play toy.” The idea had merit.

  “Uh-huh. I have to find a house.” Jake bit his collarbone playfully.

  “What for?” They had a cabin.

  “Uh….” Jake grinned, shook his head. “I was leaving?”

  “No, magic. You’re having sex.” He reached down to pinch that lean ass, just to remind the man.

  “Oh, right.” Jake’s laughter rang out, made him grin. Most people did not find him funny. It was hot.

  They rocked a little, his hands sliding up and down Jake’s body, testing the shape of a hip or a leg, his fingers counting ribs. Jake was focused on his chest, teeth teasing his nipples while that tight body wriggled against him. It was distracting as hell, but so damned fun, and his cock was happy, rubbing Jake’s belly.

  “You need fun. Too much work makes people old before their time.”

  “I like it.” He had no idea how Jake knew he’d been right on the edge when he’d come up here, needing a break, needing to be away from everything work-related, but it was the truth.

  Jake nodded, moaned softly, and switched nipples. The man had focus, Keye would give him that. He wasn’t sure anyone had ever spent that much time on his chest. Most guys went straight to Keye’s cock.

  “It’s beautiful and heavy, but you’re in no hurry.”

  “Nope.” Okay, that was freaky. But fun. He did have to wonder what it would take to get Jake to forget his name, though. Jake’s laughter tickled his skin.

 

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