Murder Aforethought

by Parker St John

  Val’s thick fingers worked him open, pumping gently in and out of his body in a sensual rhythm.

  This wasn’t preparation. It was sex itself.

  Maksim lost himself to that touch, and he only returned to awareness when he felt the broad head of Val’s cock pressing for entrance. His eyes opened wide, and he gasped.

  He was breached so gently, so excruciatingly slow, it felt like mere centimeters at a time.

  He hung his head and moaned.

  “Good?” Val asked.

  “Mmmph.”

  “Yeah.” Val sounded smug. “I know how good it feels.”

  He drew halfway out and then thrust deep. So goddamn deep, it felt as if his length would go on forever, sinking into the very core of him. Val’s hands were large and hard, spanning the width of Maksim’s pelvis, angling him just right for perfect entry.

  Maksim gripped his forearms and hung on for dear life, relishing the continuous glide as Val sank to the hilt within him. He bottomed out eventually, with Maksim’s ass pressed flush against his hips.

  Val’s eyes burned. “I can’t believe you let me inside you. I can’t believe you trust me like this.”

  Maksim cradled his face and kissed him deeply. Their tongues flashed together, and Maksim rocked his hips.

  Val’s tongue was strong and slick in his mouth. Val’s cock was strong and slick and deep inside him.

  The past few days had been a trial, but as concerned as he was for both Val’s and Emma’s safety, he couldn’t regret walking into the police station that day. Not when this was the result. Not when he had all this power and sweetness trapped between his thighs, right where it belonged.

  Val attempted an experimental thrust, but Maksim pressed a hand flat against his chest. He gloried in the feel of the strong heart pounding beneath Val’s sternum.

  “Don’t aggravate your side,” he said. “Let me.”

  He rocked his hips, slowly at first. With broad and deep rolls, like a ship cresting waves, his pace increased.

  Val’s jaw was clenched, his head thrown back, baring his throat. Maksim set his teeth into the cord of his neck, and Val heaved beneath him.

  His cock drove deep against that one perfect spot inside Maksim, and blinding light exploded like a starburst behind his eyelids.

  “Jesus,” he gasped. “Do that again.”

  Val obeyed.

  “Fuck, yes.”

  Even if it hurt him, Val wasn’t inclined to hold still and let Maksim do the work. He grabbed him by the tops of his thighs and held him open, thrusting up into him again and again, maintaining that perfect angle that had Maksim begging.

  He was beautiful in the dim glow of the hotel lamp, his golden skin and the curves of his musculature bathed in shadow. Sweat gleamed on his chest and in the valley of his abdomen. His dark hair was mussed, his mouth rosy from kisses, and his eyes were so intense they looked silver.

  Maksim couldn’t look away. He held Val’s gaze, even when the hard spike impaling him made him want to close his eyes in ecstasy. They watched each other through every torturous rock of their hips.

  Eventually, Val’s breath grew ragged, and the pace of his tempo changed. The time for being careful with each other was gone, and all that was left was raw need thundering through their veins.

  He didn’t dare look away from those beautiful eyes. The storm was coming, and he instinctively knew that if he didn’t anchor himself to the man bringing it, he would be lost.

  Val’s body began to shake. “I’m going to…”

  “Do it,” Maksim gasped.

  He took himself in hand and began rapidly stroking, squeezing his erection so tight it almost hurt. He was right on the edge. He clamped down around Val’s cock, though it was barely possible, as he was already stretched to the limit.

  Val yelled. His fingers bit painfully into Maksim’s hips, and he shuddered so hard, he nearly dislodged Maksim’s weight. He kicked back against the bed, straining deeper into his body, the veins standing out in his throat as he threw back his head and squeezed his eyes shut. He was glorious in the throes of his orgasm.

  Maksim twisted his bloodless fist around his dick and came. The sensation rocketing through him was so strong that every muscle in his body spasmed. He bit his tongue, frozen in agony.

  The deep groan that ripped free from his chest didn’t sound human.

  “Oh, my God,” Val whispered, over and over, as Maksim came in creamy white ropes across his stomach and chest.

  His strength left him, all at once. He tried to catch himself before he collapsed, but Val grabbed him and hugged him close.

  Their bodies slid together, hot and wet, but he enjoyed that. He reveled in the evidence of the havoc they could wreak on each other’s bodies.

  He licked the salty sweat beneath Val’s jaw.

  Val grabbed him by the chin and held him still while he kissed him.

  “Fuck,” he whispered against Maksim’s lips. “You missed your calling. You should have been a fucking porn star.”

  Maksim chuckled and trailed his fingers over the carved planes of Val’s chest. He couldn’t seem to stop touching him in little ways. He didn’t mean to arouse or to soothe. He just enjoyed the feel of his skin.

  “Would you be my fluffer?”

  “Fluffer, costar, cameraman and director. I would also be your entire customer base.”

  “Oh? You don’t think I can draw the crowds?”

  “I don’t want anyone else to see the expression on your face when you come. It’s…” His eyes rolled back in thought. Maksim waited. Val winced and shook his head. “I failed English. I can’t describe it. But it’s something worth seeing, trust me.”

  They rested together after that, bodies cooling as their heartbeats returned to their base rate.

  Eventually, Maksim stirred enough to check the digital clock at the bedside. His stomach growled.

  “Those takeout cartons won’t fit in that tiny refrigerator,” he said as he heaved himself out of bed. The room felt chilly without a warm body pressed against him. “How about we finish dinner?”

  If he were home, Maksim would have suggested eating naked, just so Val didn’t cover his amazing body. But there was no way he was putting his bare ass on those polyester chairs. Their health was in enough danger at the moment without adding scabies to the mix.

  Besides, Val looked almost as good with a pair of dirty jeans slung low on his hips as he did completely naked.

  Maksim had never considered himself an imaginative man, but all he’d needed was the right motivation. Every time he felt the pleasing tenderness of his ass and the soreness of his inner thighs, he had a flash of sense memory and could picture Val surging beneath him.

  He tried to keep his eyes on dinner. If he grew hard every time he watched Val eating orange chicken, he would develop a Pavlovian response to one of his favorite foods. That wouldn’t go well at the CLC’s next lunch meeting.

  “Where do we go from here, Maks?” Val asked between bites.

  Maksim’s pulse picked up. “What do you mean?” he asked cautiously.

  “I mean we can’t hide in this hotel forever. We need to get Emma back to her parents before the FBI gets involved, and we need to make sure you’re safe. But I’m out of ideas. Mary — if it’s even her — expected Vito to kill me. She’s probably shitting bricks right now with me running around, knowing what I know. All it would take is me saying a word to Russo’s allies, and she’s dead. Maybe that’s what I should do.”

  “Will you be safe from them?”

  Val shrugged.

  “It doesn’t seem wise to get yourself in any deeper unless absolutely necessary.”

  “In that case, you should stay hidden for a while. I can go back home and try to draw her out. If we can get her to show her hand—”

  “Absolutely not.”

  Val’s eyes narrowed. “I can handle myself,” he said.

  “I realize that. But you shouldn’t have to. We have other options.�
�

  Val scoffed. He set his empty carton aside and squared his shoulders. “Yeah? Why don’t you tell me what those are?”

  “We get a good night’s sleep and see what Miguel’s contact has turned up in the morning. There’s no sense in making a plan until we have more information.”

  “And if he can’t find anything?”

  “I’ll talk to my friend at the D.A. He can arrange protection for us.”

  Val ran a hand through his hair. “You know there are still leaks. The cops can’t protect us.”

  “We’ll make sure they vet everyone who comes in contact with our case.” Maksim interrupted. “We have options, Val. This isn’t your death sentence, and it sure as hell isn’t mine.”

  “What if you’re wrong?”

  Maksim grinned. “I’m never wrong.”

  22

  Maksim

  It was three in the morning when a shout jolted Maksim out of a dead sleep.

  Val flailed, as if trying to catch himself from falling, clipping Maksim in the side of the head with a swinging fist. He blinked away stars and grabbed Val by the shoulders.

  “Val,” he said firmly.

  “Duck!” Val yelled.

  He realized Val wasn’t dreaming, not exactly, because his eyes were open. He was staring directly at Maksim, and the horror in his eyes tore at his heart.

  He tried to scrabble out of Maksim’s hold. “Duck, goddamn you!”

  “Val.”

  “No,” Val moaned. Tears leaked down his temples and disappeared in his hair. “No.”

  “Val!” Maksim shook him hard. He didn’t know if that was the right thing to do. He didn’t want to damage Val or set him off worse, but he couldn’t listen to him suffer like this. “Val. Wake up. You’re safe. Wake up!”

  Val came awake all at once. Awareness filled his eyes, and he sucked in a huge breath. He cast a frantic gaze around the room, struggling to reorient himself.

  “You’re okay,” Maksim soothed. He stroked Val’s damp hair. “It was a dream. You’re okay.”

  “A dream,” Val repeated. His voice was a ruined mess, as if he’d run it over a cheese grater while he slept. He laughed wildly. “A dream.”

  Maksim went to the sink and filled a plastic cup with lukewarm tap water. “Here. Drink this.”

  Val obeyed, propping himself up on one elbow and reaching for the cup.

  Maksim sat beside him with one hand resting on his sweat-soaked back. He didn’t stroke him. He just kept his hand there as a reassuring weight.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. But he already knew the answer.

  “No.”

  “Do you think you can go back to sleep?”

  The only time he’d ever felt such impotent helplessness was back when his mother had been dying. No matter how much he’d bribed and threatened her doctors, they’d said nothing could be done. He’d escaped his powerless childhood in the slums of Ukraine, only to discover powerlessness could strike anytime.

  He’d sworn he would never again watch helplessly as someone he loved suffered, and he hadn’t, because he’d never again loved anyone.

  He needed to know more about PTSD. It was an oversight that he hadn’t already learned how to manage it. He’d had more than a few clients with PTSD in the past. Surely the knowledge could have benefitted them.

  “I don’t want to sleep.” Val set his empty cup on the end table. He wouldn’t meet Maksim’s eyes. “But I’m so fucking tired.”

  “Come here.” Maksim draped an arm around his shoulders and guided him down. He pillowed Val’s head on his shoulder and held him close.

  As the minutes ticked by, Val’s body remained tense against his. His hand was flat against Maksim’s chest, and Maksim knew he kept it there to feel proof of his heartbeat.

  He brushed his fingers up and down Val’s bicep and listened to him breathe. Too quick. His breath was too quick.

  Maksim began to talk, though not about anything particular. He began with the hotel water pressure and then moved on to his plans to buy them a fresh change of clothes, no matter how much he loathed department store shopping. He droned aimlessly, giving a bit of an impromptu speech about the quality of modern cinema and the reason he loved Abbott and Costello. He sneered at the most recent Oscar nominees and gave an elegant routing of nearly the entirety of Bradley Cooper’s work.

  It was all nonsense, of course. But it was worth it when Val relaxed, one painful muscle group at a time. It seemed like a conscious effort on his part.

  Maksim breathed deep and steady and kept talking. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way. Eventually, the curtains turned from black to gray, as daylight began to leak into their corner of the world.

  Val gave a long, shaky sigh. “I’m such a shit,” he admitted.

  “Probably,” Maksim agreed. “But why do you think so?”

  “People are dead because of me. So fucking many of them, Maks. I’ve put you and your friends in danger. But here I am, and I’m happy. How wrong is that?”

  “It’s not up to us to decide if we deserve what life offers us, the good or the bad. We can only accept it and move on.”

  “I don’t know how.”

  “You’ll figure it out,” Maksim said. “There are so many avenues of help available. We’ll look at them once this is over.”

  “We will, huh?”

  “I have a tendency to make plans for other people.”

  Val smiled and leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. “I noticed. It’s okay, though. I’ll keep you. Even if you’re dead wrong about Bradley Cooper.”

  Maksim hadn’t thought he was listening. He nuzzled into Val’s hair and breathed deep the scent of hotel shampoo and man. “We can agree to disagree.”

  Val’s arms tightened around his waist. His voice was a ghost of a whisper when he said, “This is… this is kind of special, isn’t it?”

  Maksim cupped his square, stubborn chin and drew his gaze up. “I’ve waited decades to find this kind of special,” he said solemnly.

  Val kissed him, and Maksim allowed his hands to wander over the acres of available hard flesh. He smiled at the immediate uptick of Val’s breathing. Oh, to be twenty-four again, he thought. But he was already half-hard himself when Val took him in hand and began a teasing stroke.

  The sun was well and truly up when they finally left the bed an hour later.

  Showering together was not an option in the tiny bathroom, so Val went first. When Maksim finished up his own morning rituals, he discovered Val at the table with two Styrofoam coffee cups and a bag full of bagels.

  “What’s this?” he asked. He leaned down and kissed Val, tasting mint and coffee.

  “I may not be able to pay for hotels, gas, food, clothes, or medical supplies,” Val said, ticking categories off on his fingers. “But I can damn well buy breakfast.”

  “For an army?” Maksim selected a poppy seed bagel from the bag and removed the plastic lid to his coffee.

  Val shrugged and glanced away. “I didn’t know what flavor you like.”

  “Onion,” Maksim said around a sip of lukewarm coffee. “But I only eat it on the weekends. I can’t risk offending clients with my breath.”

  Val wrinkled his nose, and it was adorable, though Maksim wasn’t sure if he objected to onion bagels, or to the thought of tailoring his dietary intake to his career.

  “How do you take your coffee?”

  “Black.” Maksim saluted with his cup.

  “Favorite movie?”

  “The Princess Bride.”

  Val’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “No, for real.”

  “Casablanca,” Maksim chuckled. “But I do watch The Princess Bride once a year.”

  He settled back into his chair and began working on his bagel. He was enjoying this little game. It was sweet, like something he probably should have done in college. But he had dated little in those early years. Every scrap of his focus had been on the brass ring.

  “Do yo
u speak any other languages?”

  “Krim Ukrayins’koyi?”

  Val grinned. “Besides that.”

  He seesawed his hand in the air. “I speak passable Spanish, though Miguel disagrees.”

  “You like him, don’t you?” Val leaned forward in his chair, legs spread, elbows resting casually on his thighs. There was a speculative gleam in his eyes. “You act like he drives you nuts, but it’s all for show.”

  “Oh, no, he’s really annoying,” Maksim said mildly. “But he’s a good man. They do good work at the CLC.”

  “How come you don’t work there full time? You grew up poor, right? Wouldn’t it feel good helping poor folks more often instead of random pro bono?”

  Maksim set down his cup. He propped his elbows on the table, laced his fingers together, and rested his chin on top of them. It was something he’d asked himself frequently over the years, but it still took him a moment to gather his thoughts or else risk sounding foolish.

  “I would enjoy that,” he admitted. “But it’s precisely because I grew up in poverty that it will never happen.”

  Val cocked his head.

  “Miguel and the other attorneys at the CLC… they’re okay working for pennies. They can live off it, and that’s all that matters to them. But for someone who grew up in poverty in Soviet Ukraine?” He spread his hands helplessly. “You can’t imagine that kind of deprivation. The idea of not being wealthy makes me sick to my stomach. I try not to squander it, I donate to charities, I volunteer. But I can’t live paycheck to paycheck. I just can’t.”

  “I get it.”

  “I doubt that.” It was an irrational fear, so there wasn’t any better way to explain it.

  Val reached across the table and gave his hand a squeeze.

  “When I was in Syria…” he said slowly, choosing his words with care, “we had this direct counter-sniper engagement. My unit was supposed to secure a position up on the roof of a shitty concrete block apartment. We had intelligence that suicide bombers occupied the building, so we mostly expected they would blow it as soon as they discovered our presence, taking us with them. We called ourselves the martyr brigade.” He chuckled, but it petered out when he noticed Maksim wasn’t laughing. “Anyway, a couple ISIL snipers were trying to pick us off from a range of about five hundred meters. You know how we triangulate that?”