Damian's Treble [Rescue for Hire 3] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove)

by Bellann Summer

  “He’s an asshole,” Treb stated.

  “Treb!” Bret reprimanded.

  “Well, from what I’ve heard and seen in the papers, he is,” Treb defended.

  Bret gave Treb the stink eye, making him back down as only Bret could do. “We are all going to welcome Leo when he arrives and help him get his health back. And that means you, too, Treb.”

  “We’ll see.” And that was all Treb was going to commit to.

  Damian pulled him into the crook of his arm, surrounding him with his warmth and support. Treb snuggled in and continued to observe everything and everyone in the room for the rest of the night.

  * * * *

  Later that night the door slammed open, banging against the wall as Damian propelled Treb through, tearing off his coat and pulling his T-shirt over his head. He was desperate to get into that snug hole.

  “Kick off your shoes. Now,” he ordered.

  In the truck on the way to Damian’s house Treb had reached over and unzipped his pants, pulling his dick out.

  “What are you doing?” Damian asked. Treb just leaned over and sucked the head into his mouth, looking up with dark eyes dancing with mischief. In seconds Damian was rock hard.

  “Treble,” Damian exclaimed, trying to thrust his cock deeper into that moist heat. Treble dragged his mouth off of Damian’s cock and grabbed it at the base. With firm twisting motions he brought his fingers up to the tip, using the beads of leaking pre-cum to coat the head.

  Damian could feel sweat forming on his brow as he concentrated on keeping the truck on the road. The truck swung wildly as Treb’s mouth again sucked Damian’s dick in right to the base. Using his tongue on the underside, Treb kept swallowing the tip over and over.

  Just as Damian was going to lose his load Treb backed off. He gave Damian a teasing peck on the lips and then took a firm hold of Damian’s cock and started a slow rhythm of stokes, revving Damian up again. Then he backed off again.

  “You know, payback is a bitch, my Treble.”

  Treble just laughed and continued to tease Damian with his mouth and hands all the way home. It was all Damian could do to get them home safe.

  Seeing Treb had his shoes off and top button undone on his jeans, Damian roughly pulled them off and threw them on the kitchen floor. Ushering a naked Treb into the living room, he bent him over the couch, reaching over between the cushions for the lube. He wasted no time slicking up his fingers and pressing two into Treb’s ass. The man mustn’t have minded the rough handling because he proceeded to push back, riding Damian’s fingers.

  Damian could only wait a few moments for Treb to adjust before he added the third. Treb’s body was practically dancing on his fingers as the man took his pleasure. Reaching his other hand around, he grabbed that fine slim dick and, with a firm tight hold, ran his hand from base to tip. Treb’s whimpering and purring had begun in earnest now, ratcheting Damian’s own excitement up even more.

  “I could make you come right now like this, but I won’t.” Damian pulled his fingers out of Treb’s hole, making him howl in protest. Keeping his firm hold on Treb’s dick, he used the extra slick on his fingers to grease up his cock. With no warning he thrust into Treb’s ass until he was balls deep, thankful the tests came back clean and they had decided to forgo condoms.

  The howling was even louder now mixed in with words of “more,” “harder,” and “move.” Damian gave Treb what he asked for, jabbing into Treb with long hard thrusts along with the firm pressure of his hand on his prick. It didn’t take long for cum to splash in long streams over his hand as Treb came over and over. That was all he needed to let go and explode, filling Treb’s hole until it was leaking out the sides.

  They both just continued to lean over the couch, enjoying the connection. One man was wondering how to bring up having matching commitment rings tattooed on their fingers. The other was wondering what the hell was the matter with the man, they were together and they needed tattoo rings.

  Chapter Five

  A few weeks later found Treb driving his truck to a meeting at the boss’s house. Glancing down at the ring finger of his left hand, he admired the plain thick black band of ink tattooed there. The morning after the great couch sex, he had looked at Damian and told him they needed rings tattooed on their fingers. Damian had agreed and just like that they had gone into town and had the bands inked. It had been short, simple, and to the point. Had Treb been a sentimental man he would have smiled at the fact that they had held hands the whole time and there had been a few what most would call sweet, loving kisses. But he wasn’t the sentimental sort.

  Treb was driving himself to the meeting, because Damian was running late, having taken the new plane he had been drooling over up first thing this morning for a test flight. Pete had gone up with him as they had both wanted to see how it handled being put through its paces. As Treb had pulled out of the driveway, he saw the plane landing, so he knew Damian would be on his way shortly.

  Damian had explained Pete’s circumstances to Treb on the day they took their second ultralight flight together. Damian had walked into the hangar to find Treb calmly asking Pete why he was always hovering just out of sight, watching them. Okay, maybe he had had Pete up against the wall with an arm pressing against his throat at the time. But with the way Damian had reacted someone would have thought he was being unreasonable or something. When he had released Pete, the poor guy had raced out of the hangar.

  What followed was some impressive shouting until Damian calmed down enough to explain that Pete had come from a home with an abusive father and he now lived in an apartment above the hangar. Damian had ended his rant that other than being extremely shy, Pete was an excellent pilot and a good man. He informed Treb he better do something before Pete quit because of his actions. Yeah, Treb found himself apologizing to a trembling Pete for that one. All was good between them now even if the guy avoided him like the plague.

  Turning into the local gas station-convenience store, Treb went in to indulge in his morning caramel coffee. He didn’t care what anyone thought about it. As far as he was concerned, the day didn’t start until he had it. After paying for an extra-large and taking that first sip, life was good again.

  The parking places around the store were pretty filled up today. As he stepped off the sidewalk between his truck and an old white cube van, he spotted the prick from the hotel and his two cronies walking across the parking lot toward him. In his hand was a metal bar. With a sigh at the interruption of his secret indulgence, he set the coffee on the hood of his truck just as the side door of the van opened. Before he could even turn back around to confront the prick, bright red pain exploded in his head and then everything went black.

  * * * *

  Damian was running late for the Rescue team’s meeting. But he couldn’t be happier at how his brand new baby handled in the air. Passing the gas station, he had to step on the brake when an old rusty cube van pulled out in front of him and sped away. He absently hoped the guy made it to where he was in such a hurry to go without hurting anyone.

  Arriving at the boss’s house, he didn’t see Treb’s truck. That was weird as he had left way before Damian had. Walking into the office where everyone was already seated, he asked, “Is Treb here?”

  “Not yet,” Jack answered. “We all know he can’t start the day without his fancy coffee. Maybe he stopped by to pick some up and got to talking to someone.”

  Everyone chuckled, knowing if Treb knew they were making fun of his coffee, they would all be on the receiving end of that cold black stare and have to watch for paybacks for some time to come.

  “He left about twenty minutes ahead of me. I don’t know anyone Treb would bother having a long conversation with.” Damian was starting to get concerned. Taking out his cell phone, he tried to reach Treb, but it went to voice mail.

  “Let’s give him a few minutes and see if he shows,” Cade advised.

  Forty-five minutes later and still no Treble gave Damian a bad feeling
about the situation. Treb wasn’t the most personable person in the world and had made a few enemies along the way. It just didn’t seem likely that anyone could get the jump on him. He usually saw everything around him in a glance. The tension in the room was starting to rise and the team as one burst into action.

  Cade was on the phone with Steve, the sheriff, in what was turning out to be an intense conversation. Jack sat next to Cade and must have been able to hear the conversation since he was taking notes. Tony had pulled up his laptop and was putting Treb’s cell phone information in to get its location on a map. Alex was sitting next to Tony, watching the computer screen. Damian stood behind Tony, fingers digging into the back of the chair as a satellite map came into view and then a blinking red dot appeared.

  Tony pointed at the screen. “This looks like the parking lot of the gas station. Here is the building and pumps. There are the cars parked around the front of the building. Over here is the marker showing what looks like it could be Treb’s truck parked second from the end.” Tony turned toward Damian. “From what I’m seeing, Treb’s phone is in his truck.”

  “What’s that?” Alex asked pointing to a small white spot on the hood of the truck.

  With a few key strokes, Tony zoomed the satellite in to bring the image closer. There sitting on the hood of the truck they all saw a Styrofoam cup usually used to hold coffee. Damian felt his stomach hit his knees.

  “Boss,” Tony called. “We have a problem.”

  * * * *

  Treb was surrounded by pain. It felt like he was swimming up through the waves, trying to surface to consciousness. Opening his eyes just a slit had him clenching his jaw as the shards of light lanced through his tortured brain.

  Slow, easy breaths helped him get control. Methodically he took stock of his situation. He could see that his feet, ankles, and legs were duct taped together and then his knees had been brought up to his chest. Duct tape encased his torso and around his knees, shins, and feet, plastering them tight against his body. His arms were pulled back behind him. From the way his hands felt, whoever did this taped his fingers and thumbs of each hand together and then taped both arms together, wrapping the duct tape around from the tips of his fingers to his elbows. A part of Treb’s brain found it rather ingenious. He couldn’t move his fingers, arms, feet, or legs.

  Sensing a presence, he lifted his head and saw the husband from the Colorado domestic rescue sitting on the floor in front of him. Instantly he realized he was on the floor of a utility van. A bloody two by four board lying next to the man told the story of what had clocked him in the head. But it was the knife in the guy’s hand that had him tensing, trying to figure how to get out of this situation.

  “You cost me my wife, my children and when they catch me, the rest of my life. They don’t realize the drugs don’t help, they just make everything fuzzy. They won’t let me see my own fuckin’ family. And it’s all your fault.” Waving the knife around, the guy continued. “I’ve seen your kind before. Deep in the walls of that maze of the hellhole over there. Your kind was never seen. But I knew you were there. We would be assigned to watch a group of insurgents and then the next day they were panicking because the leader was gone. You were the spooks that took care of the worst of the worst.” The guy’s voice rose as he screamed at Treb. “I am not the worst. You took my family away from me and now you have to disappear.”

  The guy came forward and Treb felt the knife sink into his side. Just like that, the side door of the van was opened and Treb was pushed out of the vehicle, the ground coming toward him. His trapped knees hit the ground first, pushing the breath right out of him. He felt the knife wound rip open even more from the impact. Then the momentum forced his head forward, where it slammed into the ground, knocking him unconscious. Treb never felt his body start rolling down the steep bank of the ditch and into the high grass where no one would ever see him.

  * * * *

  Damian was frantic. The last two hours had been a flurry of activity and the longest of his life. Apparently the clerk at the gas station had called the sheriff’s office to report she had seen three strange men in the parking lot walking toward Treb. According to the clerk, one of them had a metal bar in his hand. When she looked back to where Treb had been standing by his truck, he was gone. But an old white cube van pulled out of the parking space next to Treb’s truck and took off out of the parking lot moving real fast.

  It sounded really confusing until they reviewed the parking lot camera tapes. Damian watched in horror as three guys stalked across the parking lot, looking ready to take Treb on. Treb had just set his coffee on the hood of his truck when the side door of the van he was standing next to opened. Treb didn’t stand a chance as Damian watched someone inside the van swing what looked like some kind of board, catching him on the side of his head, the force of the swing propelling him partway into the van. Whoever was in that van pulled Treb the rest of the way inside, closed the door, and took off.

  Ironically that was the van that had pulled out in front of Damian on his way to the boss’s house. He had been that close to Treb and hadn’t known it.

  Tony was working his magic on his laptop and now they were reviewing images from the traffic cameras that lined the main streets and highways heading in and out of town.

  “There it is.” Alex pointed to the screen as they all watched the van pass by the camera. “If it kept on the same street, it would be heading out of town toward the north.”

  Those suspicions were confirmed when Tony announced, “The last street camera on the edge of town is coming up.” The screen flickered to a different view showing the van heading up the street out of town. The time in the corner of the screen showed just over an hour ago.

  Cade had been watching the screen and at the same time talking on the phone with the sheriff. Ending the call, he started issuing orders. “Tony, I need you to go over the tapes and see if you can see a license plate number or any identifying marks to find out who that van belongs to. Alex, you need to go get Bud. I think we’re going to need your blood hound for this. Damian, I would ask you to go up in the helicopter to start searching from the air, but I think it would be better if you stick with Jack and me as we follow the highway out of town.”

  “I could get Pete to go up and take a look around,” Damian offered.

  “That would work. Everyone—”

  Cade was interrupted by the ring of his cell phone. Glancing at the screen, he saw the sheriff’s name and quickly answered it. “Steve, you got anything?”

  “Ms. Emma just called. She heard through the ladies’ grapevine that we’re looking for a white van. Seems she was driving home from visiting a niece in Elcho and saw an old white van parked on the side of the road. That was about an hour ago. I have some men on their way to start searching the road for any sign of the van. With Alex’s tracking skills, I would suggest you send him about fourteen miles north on Highway 45. Maybe he can find something.”

  Cade ended the call and turned to his team. “Alex, take Bud and start searching Highway 45 about fourteen miles north of town. Ms. Emma thinks she saw a white van parked on the side of the road about there. Jack, get your medical gear and meet Damian and me out by my truck. We’ll meet Alex at the last sighting and go from there.” Cade turned toward Tony. “Keep me updated if you find anything.”

  “I’ll let you know, boss. I’m monitoring the police radio so I’ll keep you posted,” Tony answered.

  Damian had been on the phone with Pete. After hearing what had happened, Pete had assured him he would be in the sky within minutes searching for the white van and any sign of Treb.

  Chapter Six

  Alex, with Bud sitting by his side, drove out of town toward the area the van was last believed to be parked. He had called Ms. Emma himself, knowing firsthand accounts were way more accurate then hearing them second or third hand. His theory had been proven right when she told him that the van had been parked on the right side of the road heading north. He had also
found out, according to Ms. Emma, that she had seen the van just over the hill after she had passed the Anderson farm. Alex knew it was just a matter of time before her car arrived to “help” him find her dear sweet Treb. Alex wondered if they were talking about the same person.

  Alex parked his truck at the top of the hill about a half mile from the Anderson farm. From there he and the big bloodhound got out of the truck and made their way just a few yards down the hill. Stopping with Bud sitting at his side, ready for his command, he began scanning the terrain. The key to tracking was to first look at the area as a whole. Find signs of a faint trail or something misplaced or out of the ordinary. The boss, Jack, and Damian, were pulling in behind his truck with a couple of the sheriff’s deputies just behind them. The boss would make sure the deputies kept out of his way so he could do his thing. Team procedure was that he would give them a signal when he was done with an area so they could follow and not muck up something he needed to see.

  Bending down on one knee, he pulled a plastic bag containing Treb’s tee shirt out of his coat. Opening the large bag he let Bud put his entire nose into it so he could get a good smell of the contents, and ordered, “Find.”

  Following the bloodhound, weaving back and forth, stopping and starting again, the man and dog covered a good amount of area on the side of the road. Alex then took a moment to scan the area overall, again. It was then he spotted it. Just up ahead was what looked like ruts made by the tires of a large vehicle, showing it had pulled off to the side of the road onto the dry gravel of the shoulder. The closer they got, the better he could make out a patch of slightly flattened grass with faint indents in the ground.