Blood Heat (Dangerous Ground 3)

by Josh Lanyon

  Hands fastened behind his head, Nemov glared up at him. “This is not legal.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  Taylor looked at Will in surprise. Will said, “Uh, you really want to leave him like that?”

  “What I’d really like to do is shoot him, but I was thinking you’d probably object.”

  Will hoped — assumed — he was kidding. He looked at Hedwig, who was still glowering up at him. “My partner’s not in a great mood. I’d advise you to start cooperating. If you don’t, the first thing we’re doing after we drag your ass off this mountain is call the marshals and let them deal with getting you back to charm school.”

  She bared her teeth at him.

  “I’m sure I can find a stake to chain her to,” Taylor said.

  “You’d like that,” Hedwig said. “You don’t care about me. I’d be safer with him.” She jerked her head at Nemov.

  Nemov nodded approvingly.

  “Yeah, but who’ll protect him from you?” Will knelt and got Hedwig handcuffed. For all her quivering fury, she didn’t put up any resistance. If she was half as tired as Will felt, she had to be ready to drop. Weren’t pregnant women supposed to sleep a lot anyway? Maybe Hedwig hadn’t gotten the memo.

  Will helped her to her feet. “Do we leave the fire or not?” he asked Taylor.

  “What do you think?”

  Will considered. “There’s nothing for it to burn in here, but while it’s going it’ll keep off predators and act as a beacon for the choppers.” To Nemov he said, “The first phone we get to, we’ll contact the sheriffs and have them send someone for you.”

  “I will not be here.”

  “That would be my suggestion, but if you come after us, you’ll wish you’d waited for the sheriffs.”

  Chapter Six

  The Mountain Inn in Carrizozo was like a lot of motor courts built back in the thirties and forties. At night its blue and pink neon lights beckoned the weary traveler. By day it offered adobe-style cabins with royal blue doors, paintings of Southwest Indian designs on the stucco facade, and shady, juniper-lined walkways. The pool was bone-dry, aqua paint flecking away in the white-hot sunlight, but the ice machine still worked. Taylor could hear it thumping and rattling outside their cabin window. It was the closest thing to air conditioning the Mountain Inn offered.

  Inside the cabin, the red and brown furnishings were ugly and worn. The furniture was battered, but the rooms were clean and the beds looked comfortable. Of course, anything short of a slab in a morgue looked comfortable to Taylor at that point.

  It had taken them two hours to get down the mountain to a fire road. By then Hedwig had been out on her feet. Rescue had come in the unexpected form of a bumblebee yellow Hummer driven by a self-described “rock hound.”

  Apparently flash floods were the equivalent of Christmas for lapidaries. When the waters dried, all kinds of goodies could be discovered in the silt. Crowded in the backseat, shoulder and thigh pressed against Will’s, Taylor had listened in a kind of dream state to their bewhiskered savior drone on about fire agates, Mexican opals, Apache jasper, and petrified wood. When Will had asked about flood damage in the surrounding area, the Good Samaritan had been vague but professed a belief that there had been no loss of life.

  He’d dropped them off in Carrizozo, population one thousand (give or take), a per capita income of slightly over twelve grand, and an open invitation to any and all renewable energy companies looking to invest. Welcome to hell, in other words.

  It did have an airport, but it sounded too small for their purposes.

  After checking in to the Mountain Inn, Will had handcuffed Hedwig to the bed in the adjoining room of their cabin — probably unnecessary as she was asleep before her head hit the pillow — and he and Taylor had spent the next hour calling rental car companies, ranger stations, and just about anyone they could think of.

  “Who calls Cooper?” Will asked.

  Cooper as in Assistant Field Office Director Cooper. Their boss. The man who would have a few things to say about a pair of special agents who took it upon themselves to go hunting a fugitive suspected terrorist when their assignment was merely to escort her to LA.

  “I will,” Taylor said. “It was my idea.”

  “For the last time. You didn’t force me into this. We came up with this plan together.”

  “Do you think it makes it better or worse that it took two of us to come up with this scheme?”

  “I think we should hold off talking to Cooper.”

  “You mean because of the supposed leak to the DEA?”

  Will shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

  “We can’t stay off the radar indefinitely.”

  “I know. But —”

  “I’ll tell him we’re following up a lead.”

  Will’s mouth opened in objection.

  Taylor added, “And I’ll call the office while he’s at lunch, instead of calling his cell.”

  “Good thought.”

  “Easier to ask forgiveness…”

  Will was nodding. His own cell rang, and he reached for it, frowning as he listened. “Right. Thanks. Appreciate it.” He disconnected.

  “Nemov?” Taylor asked.

  “Long gone by the time they got there.”

  “We knew that would happen.”

  “True.” Will went to the adjoining room and looked in at their prisoner. “She’s still out for the count,” he told Taylor, leaving the door open a crack. “I didn’t know women could snore that loud.”

  Will’s mother had passed away when he was six. He’d grown up in an all-male household, which, in Taylor’s opinion, was one reason Will retained such chivalrous ideas about women.

  Taylor tugged his remaining boot off and let himself fall back on the Indian-patterned bedspread with a groan.

  It was going to be a scorcher of a day. The noon breeze was desert dry and scented with the burgers frying in the coffee shop next door to the motel.

  “I don’t think I could move if my life depended on it,” he muttered as the mattress sank beneath Will’s weight.

  He managed not to jerk as Will’s hand rested on his brow. Will slowly stroked the hair back from his forehead. Taylor kept his eyes closed. That uncharacteristically open tenderness made his heart ache.

  “You get some sleep.” Will’s voice was low. “We’ve got a couple of hours before we need to leave for the airport. I’ll call Cooper when I’m sure he’s left for lunch.”

  Taylor snorted; it was more of a tired sniff. His eyelashes felt too heavy to lift, and he didn’t want to see what was in Will’s face anyway. Regret? Apology? Good-bye? Sometimes he was so angry with Will it was all he could do to control himself. How could Will do this to them?

  Other times he was just…sad.

  Will’s warm lips nuzzled his temple. Taylor’s eyes flew open. Will’s eyes crinkled at the corners.

  “Save me a place in those dreams.”

  Taylor summoned a weary grin. “Front row. Always.” He let his lids fall shut, closing out Will’s smile.

  * * * * *

  He must have slept deeply, because when Will stretched beside him, Taylor had no idea how long he’d been out. It could have been five minutes or five hours. The curtains were closed against the harsh daylight, thin plaid fabric rustling in the occasional gusts of hot wind.

  “Time?” he mumbled.

  “We’re good. We’re flying out of Ruidoso at five. We’ll have to take the back way because of flood damage, but we’ve got time for a little siesta.”

  Taylor yawned. Rubbed his eyes. “I thought that was the back way?” He let himself be tugged over to Will, although it was really too hot for cuddling. Too hot for anything — except maybe a cold shower.

  Cold showers seemed to be the last thing on Will’s mind. They embraced, and Taylor buried his head in the strong curve of Will’s shoulder.

  “You’re beautiful.” Will’s voice was rough, uneven. “You know that?”

  Face hid
den against Will, Taylor shook his head.

  “Yeah, you do. And yeah, you are.”

  Taylor pulled himself together. He nipped the fleshy part of Will’s shoulder and drew back. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  Will’s blue eyes were solemn. He’d showered and shaved. Taylor didn’t remember that, so he must really have been out.

  Will continued to study Taylor like he was trying to memorize his face. “I love you.”

  Taylor moved his head in assent. His mouth tingled as Will traced his lower lip with the pad of his thumb. He lightly bit the finger.

  “You think Patty Hearst is liable to wake up?”

  Will shook his head, his gaze sharpening.

  “In that case…let’s save the siesta for the plane.”

  Will groaned soft accord, moving to undo the buttons of Taylor’s shirt. He laid the khaki cotton wide and bent his head, his lips warm on Taylor’s already flushed skin.

  Taylor’s breath caught as Will’s mouth trailed, tasting, kissing from his collarbone to his chest. The combination of soft lips and sharp teeth was maddening in the best possible way. He ran his fingers through the damp, dark silk of Will’s hair, raised his head to kiss Will’s ear, which was all he could reach. He groaned and dropped back as Will’s mouth closed around one of his nipples. Excitement and pleasure arrowed straight to his groin. He gasped, arched up, pushing the hard, sensitive nub of flesh into Will’s mouth.

  “I like that.”

  “I know you do.” Will was smiling indulgently. He didn’t find having his breasts touched nearly as arousing as Taylor did. In fact, Taylor suspected it made Will a little uncomfortable, but he seemed happy to oblige this kink of Taylor’s. He nibbled and licked his way to Taylor’s other nipple and then sucked hard.

  “God. Will.”

  Will bit him gently.

  Taylor whimpered. He was already erect and aching, his cock bobbing over his flat belly.

  “I know, sweetheart.” Will gave Taylor’s taut nipple a final wet lick. He lifted up, straddled Taylor, trapping his cock between Will’s buttocks. Will clenched his muscles around the shaft while leaning forward to claim Taylor’s mouth again.

  “Nice…large muscle control,” Taylor gulped out when he could breathe again.

  “Wait’ll you see my fine muscle control.”

  Taylor shivered and then laughed. He slipped his hand down between the hot, moist press of their bodies and began to stroke his belly, slowly, deliberately stimulating himself for their mutual enjoyment. Will teased him about being an exhibitionist, but Will definitely liked to watch. And Taylor liked to be watched by Will.

  Will’s eyes were so dark they looked black as Taylor stretched his spine, arching. His own gaze lingered on Will’s lean, tanned, muscular body. Will’s cock thrust up out of the black, silky thatch of his pubic hair.

  Reaching out, Taylor feathered his fingers down Will’s cock, stroking the thick, hot shaft. He could feel the pulse of blood throbbing beneath the satiny skin. You wouldn’t think it could possibly feel good to have something that big and stiff shove into your ass, but it did. It was the best feeling on earth.

  “What do you want?” Will whispered, as though reading his mind. “Want me to fuck you?”

  Taylor nodded urgently.

  “I love it when you say it.”

  “Please, Will. God. Please fuck me. I need it.” Taylor had no inhibitions about asking for what he wanted. He had few inhibitions, period. Not being afraid to face what he liked gave him control, even power in this delicately balanced relationship of theirs.

  He could see the effect of those words on Will, see Will’s expression transform into a revealing composite of desire and vulnerability. “Oh yeah —” Will’s face fell. “Oh hell. Hold on!”

  He was off the bed and heading for the bathroom.

  “Was it something I said?”

  Will’s strangled laugh came from the bathroom. Taylor, absently stroking himself, watched as Will reappeared. He was back on the bed in a leap and a bounce.

  The bounce nearly sent them both through the mattress. Taylor started to laugh.

  “What the hell was all that about?”

  Will held up a small bottle of complimentary hand cream.

  “Ah.” Taylor nodded approval. “Good thinking.”

  “Assume the position,” Will told him, and Taylor wriggled more comfortably into the disarranged bedding and lifted his legs.

  Will squirted some pale, scented lotion into his hand and lazily stroked Taylor. The liquid felt cool and slick on heated skin. Taylor murmured approval.

  “Hedonist.” Will tickled his balls, which began to tighten. Taylor sucked in a breath as Will’s fingers grazed the crevice beneath his cheeks.

  Will squirted more lotion into his palm. He traced up and down the moist curve of Taylor’s buttocks. Taylor groaned, gazing dizzily up into Will’s gravely smiling face. “Oh God. Yes. Do it to me, Will.”

  Will slipped his fingers inside, making Taylor cry out sharply and toss his head against the flat pillows.

  “Shhh.” Will threw a guilty look at the door dividing their room from their prisoner’s.

  Taylor acknowledged the warning, but the feel of Will’s fingers moving inside him was exquisite. He stretched and pushed down, aiding Will in that quest to find the spongy nub of his prostate.

  “Good?” Will watched his face.

  Taylor swallowed. Nodded. Hard to find words in the face of pleasure that intense. He closed his eyes and simply felt. The scent of musk and flowery lotion, the prickle of hair and fingernails…

  As always there was the little regret when Will’s fingers gently withdrew. But the next moment, Will’s thick cock was pressing into him, pushing, piercing him slowly, deeply.

  “Tay,” Will breathed.

  There was a brief pang of resistance, the alarming, stretching pull of skin and muscle, the almost unbearable pressure, and then the instant overwhelming pleasure.

  Taylor wrapped his legs around Will’s lean waist. His hands rested on Will’s broad shoulders, smoothing, absently urging him on. Will began to move into a more powerful rhythm, and Taylor pushed back into it, the blood-hot clutch of flesh on flesh. Fevered, damp, restless…he rode the tiger, absorbed the pounding flash fire inside himself, both their bodies slick and shining with sweat, incalescent…

  The pleasure of his coming was almost painful, so ferocious it racked him. The sun seemed to fill the room with light, brighter and brighter, burning him up — and then pinched out.

  * * * * *

  “You’re right,” Will said sometime later. “I did screw up out there last night. With the Mad Russian. I could have got us all killed.”

  Taylor turned his head on the pancake pillow. There were lines in Will’s face he only remembered seeing once before. That had been the afternoon he’d thought he was dying. The afternoon they’d both believed he was dying.

  “Sometimes it does get in the way. My feelings for you. I can’t…”

  “I can’t either,” Taylor said. “But we agreed that it was better to take our chances together than apart. We knew it would be hard sometimes.”

  Will’s jaw worked. Taylor brushed his knuckles against the tight, smooth skin. “That why you feel you need five thousand miles between us?”

  Will shook his head. “That’s not fair. You know why I want this job.”

  Taylor turned his face away. Stared at the dark, scarred paneling. “I know.”

  “I’m not running from us. I’m not running from anything. You said yourself it’s a huge opportunity for me. It’s the chance of a lifetime. I can’t turn it down. It would be stupid to turn it down.”

  Taylor closed his eyes against Will’s pain — and his own. “I know. Sorry. I’m being a jerk.”

  “Taylor, you know I love you.”

  Taylor opened his eyes, turned his head, and Will’s face was for once unguarded, all his feelings there to be read. His own throat closed. He nodded.
r />   “I know you don’t believe it, but it’s just the same for me. It’s exactly the same for me. The thought of these two years is killing me. But if I don’t take the posting, I’m afraid of what it will do to us. I’m afraid I’ll resent that decision later on.”

  Taylor nodded. “I know. I’m afraid of that too. You need to go.”

  But two years? Two? He missed Will when they were working apart just for a couple of days.

  It would be a mistake to cry, not least because he’d never get over the humiliation, but he was about as close to tears as he’d ever been in his life. It was a real struggle, and he wasn’t totally sure he wouldn’t drown in all that backwash of dammed-up emotion. He kept his eyes screwed tight, but for expediency’s sake, he had to open his mouth and drag in a soggy breath.

  Will groaned. “Don’t. God. Don’t.” He gathered Taylor tight, burying his face in Taylor’s shoulder. He could feel Will shaking with the same effort at control.

  Paris seemed a long way away.

  Chapter Seven

  The heat shimmered off the cracked asphalt and seemed to settle on the drooping leaves of the pecan trees along the wide street as they went into the coffee shop next to the Mountain Inn motor court.

  “I don’t understand why we’re flying out of Ruidoso,” Hedwig said once they had been seated. “There’s an airport here.”

  “Because if anyone is following us, they’ll expect us to fly out of the airport here,” Will told her. “Besides, if we’d waited for a flight out of here, we wouldn’t have been able to get a connecting flight to Los Angeles from Albuquerque this evening.”

  She gave him a long unreadable look from behind her glasses and picked up her menu.

  Will shook his head inwardly. Through the coffee shop’s plate-glass windows, he spotted Taylor, wearing a new pair of aviator sunglasses, walking from the parking lot.

  A moment later, the glass door pushed open. Will’s heart skipped in that funny way it had a habit of doing these days at the sight of Taylor’s lean, rangy figure.

  He raised his hand, and Taylor crossed over to them and sat down in the crescent- shaped booth across from Will. “We’re all checked out at the motel, and the rental car is in the parking lot behind this place.”