Flight of Fancy

by Harte, Marie

  Aidan grunted. They had a pair of government watchdogs on them at all times who didn’t bother hiding anymore, and Aidan had no idea what Jack intended to do about them. But at least they left them well enough alone. The government hadn’t protested much when Jack and the rest of them left DC behind. But apparently Uncle Sam wasn’t stupid enough to let amped-up psychics run amok in the country. Even as far away as Oregon.

  He frowned. “So you think Stallbridge—”

  “Ahem.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You-know-who is keeping them at bay?” Why they had to continue with Stallbridge’s secrecy, he had no idea. The team swept for devices on a daily basis.

  “That’s my guess. I mean, we haven’t done anything to warrant the government taking us in. No weird abuses of psychic power anywhere. And then there are the Cannons.” The other resident psychics in Bend. A powerful family he’d been fortunate to avoid thus far during his time in Oregon. “They have a lot of pull in high places. They’re psychic, and no one bothers them.”

  Aidan snorted. “Yeah, and they weren’t enhanced in government labs and trained to kill with a thought either.”

  “That we know of.”

  Good point. “So you’re telling me it would be a wise thing, in our best defense, to take care of the client in any way we see fit?”

  “I can only speculate, Aidan. I’m just a peon, like you.” At Aidan’s growl, he amended, “Okay, not like you. I’m much better looking, for one,” he muttered and in a louder voice said, “You’re superior in size and brain power. Happy now?”

  “Ian, get to the point.” No wonder Jack had a bottle of aspirin at his desk. Ian would drive a saint to drink. And Jack was no saint.

  “Yeah, yeah. All I know is, if it were me, I’d eliminate any threat to my paycheck. Jack leaves a lot to your discretion, and you don’t abuse your authority, so he wouldn’t blink twice if Kerr just happened to suffer from an aneurysm. All I’m saying.”

  Aidan stilled. “Wish I could help with that, but—”

  “Right. You just read minds. You don’t influence or pulverize with your mental superpowers. Sure thing. Of course. What was I thinking?” In a peppier voice, he added, “Well, I’ve gotta go. Working the day shift is no fun without Chloe and the guys to annoy, but hey, Kitty’s into some flare-up with a hot-looking hunk, so I need to go and rescue her. Or him. I’m not sure yet.”

  He hung up before Aidan could correct him. Hell. Did Ian know what Aidan could really do? Jack didn’t. How could a forger know what Aidan had kept buried more than half his life?

  “Hey.”

  He turned to see Gavin standing just inside the living room, a blanket wrapped around his waist and a frown on his face. “What?”

  “You put me to bed?” The cute flush on his cheeks warmed Aidan in places he hadn’t realized were cold.

  “You looked worn-out.”

  “I was late this morning because I overslept. I’m just not used to all this…ah…sex.”

  Aidan laughed. “Yeah? I figured. Your ass is like a glove. All nice and hot. We’re going to have a lot of fun this week.” Gavin’s embarrassment amused him. “Man, we just fucked. I emptied into that sweet ass. Hell, I rimmed and ate you up. What the hell are you embarrassed about?”

  “So I can talk to you normally now?”

  “My fault.” Aidan stood and crossed to Gavin. He pulled the blanket up over his shoulders and figured he might as well start a fire, since he planned to keep Gavin naked for the next three days they spent getting ready to tackle Kerr. “When we’re in scene, you’ll address me as Sir or Master. I’ll call you boy.” Or baby, which he hadn’t meant to let slip. It felt too personal, and he liked it too much. “But when we’re done, it’s just you and me.”

  “Where I call you an asshole.” Gavin grinned.

  That smile punched another hole through the barrier protecting Aidan’s heart. He had to clear his throat before warning, “Don’t push your luck.”

  “So I can put my clothes back on?”

  “No. Drop the blanket.”

  Gavin sighed but did as told without question. Progress.

  “I want you to be comfortable being naked around me. And I want access to that cock. Full-time.”

  Gavin blew out a breath. “I have a feeling you say this stuff so I’ll turn red.”

  “I do like that color on you. Turn around. Let me see that ass.”

  Gavin turned, and Aidan saw the beginning of a bruise on his left buttock. “Pretty. You bruise easy.”

  “Easy?” Gavin asked as he turned around. “Your hands are like bricks. No wonder they call you Viking.”

  “I thought that was on account of my berserker of a cock.” Aidan winked.

  Gavin laughed, and the smoky chuckle had Aidan joining in.

  “Yeah, okay. You’re so big and studly. Oh, Aidan, you’re my hero.”

  “Smart-ass.”

  “So who were you on the phone with?”

  The sense of camaraderie surprised him. Gavin was thinking that they’d put their issues behind them, and he saw Aidan as a real partner. The clear acceptance on Gavin’s part had the effect of brightening Aidan’s normally dour mood.

  “I was talking to Ian—not by choice. We should have our info later today. I’m a small arms dealer with connections, and you’re my love slave.”

  Gavin groaned. “Not slave.”

  “The thought has appeal.”

  “I’m sure.” Gavin shivered.

  “You have thin blood.” He shrugged out of his own shirt, more than aware of the bag of clothes Gavin had brought with him, and put it over Gavin’s shoulders. The shirt hung on a frame meant to hold a shirt two sizes smaller, but Aidan liked seeing it there, just as much as he liked Gavin’s attention. “I know. I’m a lot to handle.”

  “You have no problem with self-confidence.”

  “Nope.” Not when it came to his body. The rest of him… He didn’t like to think about.

  “So what now?”

  “Now we get to know each other better. Then we see if you’ve learned anything from this morning.”

  Gavin nodded, which surprised him. He hadn’t thought Gavin would be agreeable to another D/s scene so soon after being angry earlier. They might actually have a shot at pulling this off come Saturday.

  With that in mind, Aidan built a fire. He squatted by the fireplace and arranged kindling. Then he watched as flames took life. He turned his head and noted Gavin’s gaze on his jean-clad ass.

  “Like what you see?” he teased.

  “Yeah. Just wondering if anyone’s ever fucked you.”

  Aidan stood and faced his partner. God, he really thought of Gavin as his partner. The team fuckup had managed to sneak under Aidan’s shields in more ways than one. With that in mind, Aidan resolved to harden his livened emotions.

  “That’s quite a question.” He crossed his arms over his chest, wanting to give the impression of strength when everything inside him shied away from bad memories. Had he ever been fucked? Yeah, and beaten and nearly strangled to death. Never again.

  Gavin sighed. “And not an answer. But that’s okay. I’m good at solving puzzles.” Gavin walked up to him and placed his hands on Aidan’s biceps.

  The contact sizzled. Everything faded but Gavin’s touch.

  He wasn’t the only one affected. Gavin’s erection grew as he watched.

  “I want to show you something. Can I kiss you…Master?”

  * * * *

  Carl Kerr stared into the fireplace, hoping for answers. He’d spent the better part of last month’s earnings on Polski’s resourcefulness. Now he had the answer to his biggest problem. Except the fucking book meant nothing to him. He’d had it authenticated out the ass. Yes, it was several hundred years old. Yes, it belonged to the Stallbridge family, who had carved a nice little niche in the world of finances. And yes, Owen Stallbridge wanted it back.

  But why?

  Ignoring the muffled groans from the corner, he looked f
rom the fire to the book and frowned. The cover was unremarkable. Tattered leather, some faded gold-embossed letters. Inside was much the same. An unremarkable story about love lost and found lined the antique pages. Some sexual drawings, a hierarchy of Stallbridges and the families they’d married into. A weird little book that wanted to be the Kama Sutra but came across as a bad edition of perversions and nonsense about men and women with weird brain types. More than half the material meant little to him. But Stallbridge wanted it, according to the price tag he’d attached to Chronicles. Kerr frowned. What could Stallbridge want with such an unremarkable book?

  A careful inspection of the binding and cover showed no tampering. Nothing had been stuffed inside. No codes or coordinates. No hidden secrets that Carl could tell. The suspense was killing him. No way in hell Stallbridge wanted the book because it held sentimental value. And showing it off to the world couldn’t embarrass him. Who would give a shit about an old book written about the Stallbridges that had sexual connotations? Considering Stallbridge had never made any bones about caring what anyone thought of him, Carl couldn’t see him fearing the family exposed as perverts.

  A shriek and sudden grunt took his attention. From his position on the couch, he had a front-row seat to all the entertainment in the room. The overlarge, cozy fireplace, the custom fifty-inch LED television, and the stainless-steel table on which a bloodied sex slave lay strapped and helpless while two hulking monsters abused him. Carl turned his attention from the book to the sexual tableau before him and eased his legs apart. He motioned for the newest slave kneeling by his side to suck him off. What this one lacked in expertise, he made up for in enthusiasm and youth. Though Carl had never liked little boys, he did like his partners on the young side. This one was twenty or twenty-two. He didn’t remember his name, but the dimples and freckles across the man’s nose gave him a hint of cute with a dose of naughty as his full lips closed around Carl’s cock.

  “Good.” Carl stroked his hair before gagging the man on his dick. While his new slave struggled to breathe, Carl watched Samson shove his fully greased fist up the ass of the slight male chained to the table. “Samson, shift a bit. I can’t see fully.”

  Samson moved. The giant Swede had been quite a find. Carl had lamented the loss of Joshua, his last security guard. They’d had a good bit of fun before the bruiser had protested what he called rape. Carl had thought of his last conquest as a bit of harmless fun. He particularly liked darker men. The contrast of his lighter skin color against a darker brown was beautiful. He constantly found himself vacillating between racial types. As he watched Samson violate the pitiable slave on the table, he shoved harder into the hot mouth surrounding him. “Suck me down your throat, you little shit.” He groaned as the man on the table moaned and jerked while Samson pushed deeper. “All the way, Samson. That’s pretty. Look at his balls. They’re tight. I think he’s going to come.” Not quite what Carl wanted. He liked pain, but he liked it better when the recipient didn’t.

  Samson nodded at Tyler, Carl’s other personal protector. Tyler held a small whip and brought it down over the scars left from the last time they’d explored this type of entertainment.

  “That has to be doing some damage.” The painful pleasure will be exquisite. “Make him come, Tyler.” It wouldn’t take long. This slave liked the lash too much. His draw to pain had made him instantly attractive, but now Carl was bored with him.

  Tyler nodded. Samson withdrew his arm covered in a mess. The fluids just made it more real, more exciting. Then the whip descended. Screams, blood, and semen enhanced Carl’s enjoyment, surpassed only when Samson flashed a knife and the screams ended in a gurgle.

  Humping his slave’s face as the violence escalated, Carl could no longer hold back. He jerked and jetted down his new boy’s throat.

  He continued pumping between those pouty lips until he had nothing left. Then he pushed the young man off him. Not surprised to see tears in his slave’s eyes, he waved him away in disgust. “Samson?”

  The larger man stood at a small sink washing himself clean. “Yes, sir?”

  Carl liked that. Sir. Though not large, Carl had a commanding presence. He was like Samson, only smaller. They even looked alike. Blond hair, blue eyes. And that strength so apparent in Samson was reflected in Carl’s quick mind. Sharp, controlled. Powerful.

  With a smile, he nodded to himself. “Zip me up, would you?”

  Samson dried himself off, rolled down his shirt, and buttoned his sleeve. “Of course, sir.” After crossing to Carl, he knelt and reached between Carl’s legs.

  Carl’s cock stirred.

  Just as Samson pulled the zipper all the way up, Carl covered his hand.

  “Sir?”

  “Do you like working for me?”

  Samson smiled, his avarice and cruelty readily apparent. “I do.”

  “Good, good.” He let Samson go.

  “What about Gary, sir?”

  “Gary?”

  Samson nodded to the dead man currently slumped over Tyler’s shoulder. Blood covered Tyler’s previously pristine white shirt. Between Tyler and Samson, he didn’t fear bodily harm. He’d seen both men plow through his enemies and not bat an eye.

  “Ah, Gary. Dispose of him discreetly. Excellent performance, you two.”

  Samson grinned, and Tyler nodded.

  “Samson, the next time you need someone to play with, feel free to use my new toy.” He glanced at the freckle-faced young man sobbing on the ground. “He’s not very good, but he has potential.”

  Samson licked his lips. “With pleasure.”

  His slave whimpered.

  The big man liked a challenge. Carl had noticed Samson looking himself over a time or two and had considered allowing him some fun. His guard was smart enough to know not to damage the boss, not if he wanted to live. But Carl didn’t like giving up control, and Samson was the type who wanted to fight for it.

  Perhaps hurting his new slave would sate Samson’s hunger for pain. Then again, keeping his guard on the edge only made him that much more feral when it came to dealing with Carl’s adversaries.

  “Oh, but Samson?” he called when Samson turned away. “Don’t play with him unless I’m there to watch. I want this one to last a little longer than Gary. He’s still so innocent.”

  “Sure thing, boss. And Stallbridge. What do you want me to do about him?”

  Kill him, came the immediate answer. “Let’s sit and wait. I’m sure he’ll start poking around soon enough, maybe even this weekend at the party. That’s what I’d do. I need to know who’s working for him. I have an idea, but I’m not one hundred percent sure my source was right.” Real psychics? Ex-government agents? None of it made a lick of sense, but he’d wait and see. “I can’t wait until this weekend, can you?”

  “No, sir,” Samson and Tyler answered as one.

  Carl tittered. Saturday couldn’t come soon enough.

  Chapter Five

  Gavin waited for Aidan’s permission before he pulled Aidan’s head down for a kiss.

  The press of lips, the heat, the overpowering strength all around him, fueled his power that needed an outlet. He’d often envied Keegan and James their abilities. Moving something or setting fire with one’s mind—those powers could be contained, hidden. But making his whole body float wasn’t something Gavin could conceal. Needing an external channel to release his power sucked. Or it had, until now.

  As he kissed Aidan, energy flared between them. Gavin groaned into the kiss, exploring Aidan’s mouth with soft strokes. He licked and teased until Aidan opened and allowed his penetration. That the larger man welcomed his touch gave their merging added meaning. Gavin couldn’t help it. He wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of guy. He’d never been one to hit the glory hole in the north campus bathroom or suck a guy off in the back hallway of a gay bar. He needed trust and emotion, a deeper connection with a sexual partner than the physical.

  So it had surprised him as much as it probably had surprised Aidan how
much he desired the bigger man. Yet the hunger had turned from physical to something else, because his power cradled them both as he let it wash over him.

  Aidan tensed when their feet left the ground. And then he hugged Gavin tighter and took control of the kiss. He stroked Gavin’s tongue and thrust against it with his own, nipping and sucking until Gavin thought he’d burst.

  Need you so much came loud and clear into his mind, and he blinked his eyes open to see Aidan’s closed. As soon as the thought had been shared, Aidan closed off with an almost audible snap. Gavin’s sense of togetherness hadn’t faded, though, and he continued to hold them off the ground while he kissed and touched every part of Aidan’s body he could reach, well aware his bare cock met the solid wall of Aidan’s belly.

  Aidan broke the kiss and looked down at him with hunger. Then he shifted his stare to the floor, a few feet beneath them. Unlike Gavin’s vaulted ceiling, Aidan’s was only ten feet tall, and soon he bumped his head. “Shit. That’s amazing.”

  Gavin let them slowly drop until they hit the floor. But Aidan didn’t let him stop.

  “No. Keep going. To your knees.”

  Gavin knelt. Supplicant, wanting. God, he needed to suck Aidan off, to feel his Master come and taste his seed.

  “Good boy. We’re back in the scene now. And you’re thinking the right way, finally.” Aidan slowly unzipped his pants and took himself out. “Just lick it. Learn my shape.” He kept his hand on Gavin’s head while Gavin used his tongue all over Aidan’s shaft. Aidan moaned, and the sweet sound eased an answering one out of Gavin.

  “That’s good. Yes. Now suck it. And suck my balls too. Lightly, until I tell you to go harder.”

  Gavin reached between Aidan’s legs and cupped his sac. Then he kissed and licked the skin before sucking one testicle into his mouth. He stroked Aidan as he worked him, not needing instruction when the man’s hand at the back of his head expressed his pleasure. Aidan pumped his hips in time with Gavin’s deep draws.

  He stopped Gavin by gripping his hair and yanking him away.