“Oh?” Gavin’s tone was instantly full of flirtation. “So here’s how it goes. I’m in. But in case there was any doubt at all, I’m driving.”
Chapter Six
Gavin Montgomery managed to step up into Jamie’s truck with irritating ease and a loose grace that pissed Jamie off almost as much as it turned him on.
Gavin’s jeans and button down under a leather jacket made Jamie think he wouldn’t look out of place wearing the same, assuming Gavin hadn’t exaggerated how clothing-optional the party was. As Jamie eyed the creases in the jacket, he was willing to bet Gavin had paid for that distressed look in cash, rather than the wear and tear Jamie’s had earned over six years. But it looked hot on him, especially contrasted with the unmarked dark blue denim hugging his legs. There could be a party right here. Well, maybe not in the half-a-mile-long driveway to this mansion out on Holly Neck. But there were parks. Hell, his apartment was a fifteen-minute drive.
Which might have happened if Gavin’s stilted accent hadn’t started in with, “You don’t even have handles on the inside? How do I shut the door?”
Jamie reached under the dash and pressed the door motor. He’d rather work on the engine than electrical crap like that, but once the power doors were in, he thought it was pretty cool.
The door pulled shut and the overhead light went out. The darkness erased everything but the fact that Jamie was horny, Gavin was hot, and he smelled really good. Jamie was about to suggest ditching the party when Gavin tipped his head to stare down at the door. “Wow. Now that is control freak on a level I cannot conceive.”
In the best interests of the semi Jamie had been sporting since agreeing to the whole clothes-optional party, he put a hand on his inseam to free up some room instead of popping the door release again. “What’s the address?”
“Do all policemen sound like that?”
“Like what?”
“As if every question is an accusation of murder.” “Maybe you have a guilty conscience. But if you don’t give me an address, you might as
well get back out so I can make other plans. My dick’s not going to suck itself.” “How original.” Gavin reached over his shoulder for his seat belt. “It’s in Edgemere.” “Edgemere.” They’d be headed back toward Jamie’s house in Dundalk. Though
Edgemere was farther away from the industrial harbor and the wastewater plant, it was still all middle-class bungalows. Not exactly the place you’d find a mansion like the one he was putting in his rear view mirror. Thirty miles in the truck for what was a straight shot across Hawk Cove on the water. “Should’ve gone by boat,” he muttered.
Gavin’s laugh was something Jamie couldn’t remember having heard before. “But then I wouldn’t have gotten my ride in your truck. It’s beautiful. You’ve obviously put a lot into
Jamie wasn’t sure whether an insult was hiding in there so he grunted. “Your house is nice.”
He’d seen the back of it on patrol before, mostly the boathouse. The house was set far from the bay, safe from storm damage.
“Thanks. But it’s not really mine. None of them are.” Them. Houses. Right. “What do you do exactly?” “Besides stand around at parties like that one you were forced into? For which I do apo-
logize by the way.”
“I didn’t figure that party was your plan. But yeah, what do you do?” Jamie had never given it much thought before. Just rich people were rich and that was it.
“Not much. I’m on a few charity foundation boards.” “Save the Dwarf Wedge Mussel?”
“I see you’ve heard of us.” Gavin shifted back to that dry and distant mocking tone. Jamie still wondered how the being-rich trip actually worked, and hell, there were twenty
more miles to kill. “But for living expenses…”
“My brother the surgeon is the black sheep because he works for a paycheck. Mont-gomerys simply are. Public service is acceptable, marginally.”
“So you live off your family.” It was hard to tell from looking at Gavin’s face, but Jamie had done the paperwork. Gavin Montgomery was thirty-three years old.
“I live off my own trust fund. But if it’s any consolation, I believe we make a small army of dedicated accountants and tax lawyers very comfortable.”
“I’d go nuts.” Jamie shook his head.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Gavin’s jaw tighten as he turned to stare out into the black night. If they didn’t take the exit for Edgemere, the Patapsco Freeway would take them right to the Key Bridge. What if that trip off the bridge hadn’t been an accident? Jam-ie snuck a quick look, but Gavin’s reflection in the window revealed nothing.
Neither of them spoke again until Jamie approached the exit. “We want North Point Road,” Gavin said suddenly. “I don’t know the address exactly,
but it’s on the bay, north of the park.”
“You don’t know the address.”
“Remember how you said it would be faster by boat? That’s the only way I’ve arrived at the house before.”
“Great.”
“I did get directions.” For the first time, Gavin sounded exasperated. “Turn there. Now.” “It’s the state park.”
“I know, but that’s the way.”
“I thought you said you’d only come by boat.”
“Liquor store run,” Gavin explained.
“The way” ended at a T, paved left, gravel and dirt to the right. “Turn right,” Gavin said.
Not only was the road going to pit up the paint job, turning right looked like they were going to drive straight into a wind-twisted pine tree.
But when the truck sent the gravel skittering as they rounded the tree, Jamie could see they were in the right place. A Jag, a Viper, a classic ’Vette and plenty of Beamers and Audis were scattered around the uneven outlines of a house rising over the stubby trees. His hands tightened on the wheel as he pulled off into a sandy patch, fixing the pines with a glare to warn them off dripping sap on his hood.
Fuck, he was so very far out of his league. He’d felt more in control up on the jump plat-form of a C-160, HALO drop, Guatemalan jungle four miles down. He remembered Colton slapping his shoulder as they hit the line. Not gonna live forever anyway.
Gavin tapped him again. “You coming? Can’t open the doors on my own, remember?” He looked up at the house made up of sloped wooden boxes piled on stilts. Behind a
wall of glass on the middle floor, a figure who had gone clothing optional paused to put something up to his nose. Jamie’s eyes flicked back to the almost seamless glove box where he’d stowed his badge and gun before picking up Gavin. Jamie wasn’t a grunt to only fol-low orders anymore. He wanted a sitrep.
“What kind of party is this?”
Gavin leaned over, one hand gliding over Jamie’s seat belt before pulling the buckle free. “You want to be a cop, or you want your dick sucked?”
Jamie punched the door release and hit the drop zone. A low thump of techno vibrated the wood of the stairs. Nothing that would disturb a
neighbor, assuming there were any within a hundred yards. Inside, the music was at a com-fortable volume rather than something to scream over.
The door at the top of the steps led into an open space. In a kitchen to the right, a shirtless blond stood behind a counter pouring out drinks from a pitcher. “Gavin. Glad you made it.”
As Jamie’s eyes took in the man’s face, he knew he’d met him before, but that made his being here wrong.
“Lee.” Gavin nodded back.
As soon as Gavin said the name it clicked. “Isn’t that…?” Jamie let his murmur trail off. “My sister’s husband, yes.”
Yeah, that closeted shit happened a lot. Had happened with Jamie’s buddy Quinn being the one to suffer for it. Somehow Gavin’s shrug about what was going on in his sister’s life made it really fucked up.
“Soren, thanks for the invite.” Gavin hugged another tall blond who approached from the left.
“Gavin. Drinks in the kitchen, poppers i
n the fridge. Action all around. Flipper’s here.” The last was added with an emphasis that suggested an in-joke.
Based on Gavin’s grunted answer, Jamie guessed Gavin didn’t find it all that funny. “This is Jamie.”
“Hi, Jamie.” Soren wore a tight pair of gray boxer briefs, Armani figuring prominently on the waistband. But he didn’t seem to have much else to offer unless he’d just gotten out of an ice bath. Of course, the pipe in his hand might have something to do with the disin-terest.
“Flipper?” Jamie asked in a low voice.
“You don’t want to know, but you may find out later, unless you brought earplugs,” Gav-in explained.
“You two going to stand there all night?” Soren said. Gavin shrugged out of his jacket and pulled his shirt over his head. His shoulders looked
broader now, the muscles running into his collarbone beautifully defined. The rest of him was smooth, not soft, but not gym-bunny ripped either, and no winter tan, creamy skin with swirls of dark hair around his coppery nipples. Jamie had to fight the urge to lick his lips.
A grunt of pleasure echoed off the high-beamed ceiling, followed by a “Fuck yeah” from someone out of view. The smell and sounds of men and sex sent a fresh flood of heat to Jamie’s dick, a sensation like a tongue running over his balls. He yanked off his shirt and kicked free of his sneakers. A glance at Soren and Gavin had him toeing off his socks.
“Nice.” Soren offered the pipe to Jamie.
“No thanks.” Jamie turned away.
“Not at the moment,” Gavin said, and Jamie looked back to see him wave the pipe away. Soren shrugged as he took a hit. From the smell, it was just weed. Jamie relaxed a little. One solid stroke of his hand over his jean-covered dick and he knew things were good to go. He undid his fly and stepped out of his jeans. He’d decided if clothing was optional,
he’d might as well freeball it.
“A commando operation?” Gavin asked.
“Don’t like to waste time. And I’ve got nothing to hide.” Jamie straightened from mak-ing sure his phone was buried but still accessible in the pile of clothes on the counter.
“I wouldn’t say that at all.” Soren’s gaze dropped, and he licked his lips in appreciation. Gavin slid out of his jeans, legs as leanly muscled as Jamie had imagined, a nice bulge
in the bright blue boxer briefs. “Want me to introduce you around?” Jamie didn’t need his hand held to get laid. He’d been doing just fine since he turned
fourteen.
“Nah. I’m good. Catch you later.”
He moved through the archway toward the sounds. Track lighting fell on a couch facing the fireplace, a pair of guys fucking at each end. There was a three-way blowjob on the floor between here and the fireplace, and a guy spread-eagled against a picture window, two guys kneeling behind him taking turns eating his ass.
The gut-stringing tension of walking into an unpredictable situation faded. Sex Jamie got. It wasn’t complicated. It felt good. And it was all around him. Testosterone seeping into his pores, filling his head and his blood, the groans vibrating into his bones right along with the pulse of the bass from hidden speakers.
Didn’t matter if it was The Arena, the grocery store, the gym, a parking lot or even once over an M198 Howitzer stowed in the hull of the USS Wasp , Jamie knew how this worked. He knew the rules and was good at the game.
All the players there were occupied, so he moved along a hallway. A twink with a hard-on stretching his microscopic briefs shook his ass to the beat as he bounced down the open stairs.
Jamie stopped to watch him. As soon as the twink felt Jamie’s gaze, he paused and put on a pout. Yeah, the guys at this party might all be worth more the GNPs of most of the hellhole countries Jamie had seen during his time in the Marines, but they still played the same way.
Jamie gave him a slight nod, and the guy followed him down the hall. He’d spotted an armless-couch-type thing that would come in handy if Jamie decided he didn’t want to fuck standing up.
When Jamie turned back to face the twink, it was obvious the guy was getting a little long in the tooth to be working that sweet-young-thing angle. That wasn’t Jamie’s deal any-way. But the pouty lips would feel good on Jamie’s dick, and that curly dirty-blond hair would be great for digging his hands into.
“I’ve never had ginger before.” Stroking a hand across Jamie’s chest, the trick looked up at him through sandy lashes.
Jamie flexed a pec under the guy’s hand. He knew the type, wanting a daddy to put him on his knees. “So what are you waiting for?”
“I’m Tommy.”
“Don’t care.” Jamie threaded his fingers through the trick’s hair and pulled him closer, tonguing a line up from neck to a triple-pierced ear. “But you can try to make me. Suck it.”
“Yes, sir.” Tommy was on his knees in a flash. “Thank you.” He did know what he was doing, lips rubbing across the head, tonguing down the under-
side, and then, oh yeah, he could swallow cock good and sweet. Jamie relaxed his grip on the curls and wrapped a caressing hand around the trick’s neck.
“Yeah.”
The mouth on Jamie’s dick backed off, then he felt the flick of a tongue barbell under his cockhead. He’d definitely made a good choice. He widened his stance, sinking into sen-sation. The trick went deep again and swallowed. Jamie was beginning to think he should have started this leaning on a wall, but he couldn’t move. Didn’t want to lose a second of that mouth on his cock. A flick of that tongue. The rub of the barbell in the slit.
A sharp, fresh scent hit his nose, leather and pine, and he knew whose warm skin pressed up against his back.
Gavin.
A solid arm came around Jamie’s waist. The dick pressing along the crack of his ass was still under the cotton and nylon of those look-at-me briefs. Jamie wanted to say something about Gavin not being able to keep away now that he’d had a look, but most of his brain was gliding in and out of Tommy’s mouth.
Gavin’s breath was sweet with rum as he whispered into Jamie’s ear, “Didn’t waste any time.”
“Life’s short,” Jamie managed.
A cross between a grunt and a laugh rumbled against Jamie’s back. “Now I know how you found me that night. You’ve got preternatural instincts.”
Jamie wasn’t sure if that was an insult, but he didn’t care. Tommy had pulled off to get his tongue on Jamie’s balls. Gavin made a good wall, so Jamie leaned back.
“Tommy’s the best cocksucker on the East Coast,” Gavin explained. Hearing his name, Tommy eased off and sat back on his heels. If this was Gavin’s pay-
back for Jamie leaving him hanging at that stuffed-shirt party, it was overkill. “Jealous?” Jamie asked and felt Gavin shrug. “I can share.” Jamie moved so that he and Gavin stood side by side, then reached into Gavin’s fly. The
silky hard flesh twitched in Jamie’s hand, and he couldn’t resist working it until he milked a drop from the tip. Pretty dick. A pulse tingled his palm under the now-rigid satin covering a nice eight inches. Cut, smooth and slick. Gavin didn’t need those neon-bright shorts to get attention.
“Suck him, boy.” Jamie dragged the trick’s head toward Gavin’s dick. Gavin didn’t watch the mouth moving toward the head of his cock, instead he studied
Jamie with that same unnerving stare. Jamie’s thumb was still slick with the precome he’d pressed from Gavin’s slit. As Gavin watched, Jamie brought the thumb to his mouth and licked it, right as Tommy’s lips brought a gasp from Gavin.
Jamie smiled.
“You are way too fucking full of yourself.” Gavin’s hoarse whisper rippled across against Jamie’s breath as he leaned in to kiss him. They were standing so close, Jamie’s dick rubbed along Tommy’s cheek as he sucked Gavin, which must have seemed like a demand, be-cause Tommy wrapped his lips around Jamie again.
Gavin was still getting some attention, based on the moans he was pushing into Jamie’s throat. Jamie locked an arm around Gavin’s hip, the o
ther hand threading back through the trick’s curls, only to find Gavin’s hand there too.
For all that Tommy was the one trading one dick for another, Jamie felt Gavin down there too, the slippery thrust of his tongue showing how much he wanted to taste Jamie. Hell, Jamie knew he was dying to find out how that silky length would feel in his mouth.
Then their fingers tangled together at the back of Tommy’s head as he proved that his reputation as best cocksucker on the East Coast wasn’t exaggerated when he managed to get both heads in his mouth.
They groaned, the vibration echoing between them, Gavin’s dick against Jamie’s cradled in that wet heat, rubbing, sliding as Tommy’s hands worked the shafts. Jamie’s balls buzzed with it, filling him, electric shocks running through him as he thought about them both coming down that willing throat, locked together, sharing the same sensation.
Gavin lifted his head, then dragged his cheek along Jamie’s to whisper, “Don’t come yet, I’ve got an idea.”
Since Gavin’s last idea was turning out pretty good from where Jamie was standing, he decided to go along. With one motion they pulled Tommy off their cocks. Jamie’s balls screamed in protest as his body crawled back from the edge.
Gavin nodded at the armless sofa. “Climb up, Tommy.” As Tommy stripped off his briefs and positioned himself on all fours, Gavin produced a
pack of lube and a condom from the waistband of his shorts, leaning to mutter in Jamie’s ear, “You think he’s good now, wait until you feel him while he’s getting fucked.”
Jamie had seen condoms and the small packs littering the counter and table near the fire-place on his way in, but he hadn’t expected to be watching Gavin be the one to roll a rubber on before lubing it up.
Jamie didn’t know where Tommy had been hiding it, but he handed back another little pillow pack of lube to Gavin, murmuring something Jamie didn’t hear over Gavin snapping off the top.
Jamie was looking forward to getting that agile mouth, tongue and tight-squeezing throat on his dick again, but he had to admit that wasn’t the only thing he was anticipating as he stepped toward Tommy’s head.
He wanted to see Gavin fuck, watch it in his face, see his eyes get dark with it when he pressed inside.
Mitchell, K.A. [Bad in Baltimore #3] Bad attitude Page 6