Four Mercenaries - The Complete Collection

by K. A. Merikan

  Tank shut his eyes, and while Clover’s tongue ached to say all the other things in favor of his case, he stayed quiet and waited.

  After seconds of tension, Tank exhaled and looked straight at him, with that scowl of discontent firmly in place. “I don’t like it. I think it’s dangerous. But I suppose you’re right. At the end of the day, you will be safer with us than alone at home. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if I distracted myself by checking on you every fifteen minutes.”

  Clover smiled at him despite dreading the trip. He would have prefered not to go to Arizona at all, but that wasn’t an option. He would have to face Jerry.

  He got to his toes and kissed Tank’s cheek. “Nowhere is safer than by your side.”

  Chapter 6 – Pyro

  When Tank had announced that they’d be staying at his grandmother’s for the night, Pyro had expected the standard retiree, not a loud whirlwind of neon patterns with pastel pink hair and a house echoing with bird cries. She had fifteen freaking parrots, and one of them lived in a wardrobe-sized cage in the dining room, constantly repeating the few words it knew. Pyro was pretty sure he’d also heard several owls outside.

  They all sat in an opulent living room that stabbed Pyro’s eyes with sapphire-colored couches and emerald armchairs. He kinda dug it. He wouldn’t have decorated his own home this way, but the lady had her own brand of crazy going on, so who was he to judge? A gigantic pink and golden Bavarian-style cuckoo clock finished the space with an adequate amount of wacky.

  Why would Tank hide this gem of a woman for so long?

  Perhaps because she was nosy and had no filter.

  “So this is your little boyfriend, Adam. I’m so happy you finally introduced a special someone to your grandma. I thought I wouldn’t live to see the day!” she said, smiling with shockingly bright pink lips. She didn’t resemble Tank at all, neither in behavior nor physically—since she was tiny, with a fine-boned face and very loud taste in clothes, but it was obvious she’d missed him.

  Pyro sometimes wondered if his own family missed him, but then again, unlike Tank, he didn’t send them outrageous sums of money that must have purchased every porcelain bird in sight.

  Clover smiled, but he was shaky as a leaf, and Pyro wondered what that was about. The boy hardly coped with drinking his tea without spilling it into his lap. “Adam told me how much you supported him when he was a child. It’s so very nice to meet you.”

  Pyro snorted at Clover’s mask of politeness. Not a ‘fuck’ in sight.

  “Yes, he’s the apple of my eye, and looks like he’s got perfect taste in men. I was worried he would die alone. It’s a smart choice to find himself a younger boyfriend. My husband was older than me, and now he’s dead.”

  Clover stared, and for a moment the room was filled only with bird chirps, but then the cuckoo clock chose to announce to the world that the next hour has arrived.

  Tank cleared his throat, chewing on the shrimp cocktail with sweat starting to bead on his forehead. Tank loathed shrimp and all sea food, but it seemed that he was capable of swallowing them for his granny. “Granddad drowned. It had nothing to do with his age.”

  His grandmother, who’d already asked them all to address her as Jolene, waved her hand in a slow, pronounced way, that showed off her long, somewhat spiky nails. “Details, Adam. Frida, you know, the friend I always go to the casino with, also had an older husband, and he died. That man truly had a talent for getting his arteries clogged. Make sure you eat well in that man-pad of yours.”

  Boar smiled. “I often cook for all of us. You can rest assured Adam’s got his nutritional needs met. He starts the day with a six egg omelette.”

  Jolene frowned at Clover. “You don’t cook for your boyfriend?”

  Clover’s eyes got wide as saucers. “No, I do… sometimes! Boa—I mean, Jamie’s taught me how to cook a lot of things.”

  “Well, you better learn fast if you ever want a ring on your finger.”

  Pyro bit on the inside of his mouth in a bid not to laugh, but Boar still stepped on his foot under the table in warning. Clover got so pale he was starting to look sickly. Something needed to be done.

  Tank cleared his throat. “We’re not there yet.”

  Jolene rolled her eyes as if he were the unreasonable one. “You’re almost forty. I tell you from experience that once you hit that mark, your body crumbles. Better tie him to you while you can still satisfy him.”

  Pyro rose. “Okay, I’m in need of a drink. Anybody wants anything?”

  Clover jumped to his feet. “I’ll help bring the drinks.”

  Jolene’s lips widened with a smile. “The pantry is at the far end of the kitchen. I’ll have some bourbon with Dr. Pepper.”

  The others placed their orders too, and Pyro led the way to the kitchen. Clover was silent as a mouse, and the tension in him only made Pyro’s mood more playful. They went through the kitchen full of appliances and kitsch decor until they reached a back door. The ‘pantry’ was more like a walk-in bar with bottles of alcohol stacked on shelves from floor to ceiling, but he wasn’t complaining.

  Pyro couldn’t help himself though, and when they both walked into the narrow space that smelled of spirit and sugar, he turned on the small lamp and closed the door behind them. Clover frowned, but Pyro got down to one knee, grabbing Clover’s slender fingers.

  “Clo, I can’t have Tank take you away from me. You need to marry me first. Please? Drake can walk you down the aisle.”

  Clover stared for a few seconds too long, which told Pyro that Clover believed him, even if just for a moment. Eventually though, he slapped Pyro’s hand, blue eyes glinting in the faint illumination. “Asshole!”

  Pyro cackled and kissed the front of Clover’s pants before rising to the choir of birds screaming outside. “You love it. Admit it.”

  Clover pursed his lips, but they were already twitching. “Yeah, okay, maybe that was just what I needed.”

  “She’s one scary woman.”

  Clover put his hands in his hair. “She’s freaking me out. It’s like a minefield out there.”

  Pyro sniggered and opened a cupboard to take out some glasses. “Yeah. Families, they’re only trouble.”

  “I just… I don’t want to embarrass Tank, you know? She’s important to him.” Clover pointed out a bar cart, which they could use to move all the bottles and glasses. Pyro imagined the cart was Jolene’s pride and joy. She probably used it whenever she had friends over.

  “Maybe you just need a distraction?” Pyro asked, capturing Clover’s hair in his fingers and tugging on it gently. They could hear bits of conversation even here, but what fun was life without a tiny bit of risk?

  Clover needed a distraction, because he didn’t seem to get the innuendo. “No, I need to work out how to behave so that she doesn’t hate me. You… I know you left your family, but they were strict, right? What did people like that expect?”

  Gravity pulled at Pyro’s mouth. His family was the last thing he wanted to talk about. “Ah. You know, they were boring. Nothing like Jolene. Just roll with her madness.”

  Clover ran his hands down his face. “She said I looked like her white peacock. I didn’t know if it was an insult or a compliment.”

  Pyro shrugged. “I guess she wanted to say you’re special. You know what you need to do? Not imagine her naked, but something else along those lines,” he said, itching to change the topic.

  “What are you suggesting?”

  The wide-eyed look was catnip for Pyro’s inner tomcat. He stepped closer, effectively trapping Clover against a narrow counter. He grabbed the boy’s slender wrist and pressed it to his crotch. “How about we add a special something to the cocktails?”

  “No…” Clover wouldn’t even blink, pink lips parted, breath quickening. Did he even have an idea what a honeypot he was, tempting Pyro every single day? Like a figure made of white chocolate and drizzled with delicious, sugary toppings.

  “You sure? Maybe just yours then?” P
yro asked, pressing his hand to the slender throat and giving it a gentle squeeze.

  Clover swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing against Pyro’s hand, but he squeezed Pyro’s package. Such a greedy boy. “Is this a dare?”

  “Uh-huh. And if you do it, I might just let you ride my bike. But you need to make up your mind fast. They’re waiting for us,” Pyro whispered. Too tempted to resist the desire already kindled in his body, he licked Clover’s lips and then all the way up to his eye. Even the boy’s sweat was delicious.

  “Just once? I’ll do it if you teach me how to ride it.”

  Clover drove a hard bargain when he was aware of his allure. Pyro was precious about his motorcycle, but on the other hand… seeing Clover drink a cum cocktail at Tank’s grandma’s table? That was tough to refuse.

  “Deal. Now give me a hand, so I can start that piña colada for you,” Pyro whispered, pushing his thumb into the soft warmth of Clover’s mouth.

  Clover sucked on Pyro’s finger, but he didn’t waste any time and opened Pyro’s jeans. Boar had been right about him from the start. The boy was perfect for them. Fun, cute, sexy, always up for a dare. All things naughty and nice rolled up into sweet pale packaging.

  “Better make it quick. You wouldn’t want Jolene walking in on us,” Pyro said, looking straight into Clover’s face, which was already blooming with the prettiest flush. He pushed his pants lower to make the boy’s job easier, but the warm hold on his hardening dick made him briefly close his eyes. Yes, it was that good.

  He grabbed a plastic funnel off one of the shelves, and focused on the slender fingers working his cock. The pretty face would soon turn into a damp mess. Clover sucked on his thumb as if he weren’t even thinking about it. A natural. The boy’s eyes were trained on the job, ogling Pyro’s dick as if he couldn’t wait to drink its juices. Was he remembering how he’d climbed into his and Boar’s bed the other day, and took care of Pyro’s morning wood by sitting on it reverse-cowboy-style? Boar had been eager to join in, which offered Pyro not only a front-row view on Clover’s ass swallowing his cock but also on Boar’s come-face.

  “Good boy. Earn that bike ride, and maybe I’ll fuck you on it as a bonus,” Pyro said, staring at Clover from up close. His lips were itching for a kiss, but the desire to stare at the rosy lips won over, and he shifted slightly, thrusting against the slender hand.

  The little devil knew what got Pyro off and had no issue pulling him to the peaks of arousal. The boy was so close Pyro could smell his fresh minty shampoo, and the soft sucking around his thumb, the whimpers, were as exciting as they had been the first time they’d fucked. But the risk and the outrageousness of what he was doing pushed him over the edge and he had to bite his lip not to moan too loudly when he came into the funnel, blocking its ending with one finger.

  He couldn’t wait to see Clover drinking his cum without anyone knowing. Pulling Clover into shit like this was Pyro’s favorite pastime.

  “Good boy. Now kneel,” Pyro demanded, and when Clover did as he was told, Pyro wiped his cockhead against his cheek. He might have satisfied his greed for the boy, but arousal was still simmering beneath his skin. “Now hand me your favorite glass. This kind of delicacy needs to be drank in style.”

  Clover panted, a thing of beauty with flushing cheeks, and reached for a martini glass despite the small shake of his head. He was no longer trembling with worry, his slender hand steady as Pyro let his cum drip into the glass.

  “Tank would kill me,” Clover sniggered, but didn’t seem all that worried.

  Pyro rested his hip against the counter as he emptied the contents of the funnel into the glass. He’d come a lot tonight. “He’d be so disappointed in your behavior. How can you do this to him?” Pyro asked, smiling when he added Malibu to the cum.

  Clover rubbed the cum-streak off his cheek. “Now you’re just being mean. But he doesn’t let me ride his bike, so there. I had to do this, right?”

  Pyro hummed, briefly glancing at the obvious erection in Clover’s pants as he rummaged through the pantry to find the final ingredient, coconut milk juice. “Am I being mean or just myself?” he asked and tapped Clover’s groin once the boy got to his feet.

  “You could be yourself and give me quick head, babe.” Clover clung to Pyro’s side, rubbing his crotch against Pyro’s thigh. So needy. And so fucking hot. Yet denying him would be even hotter.

  “That wasn’t part of our deal,” Pyro said, touching Clover’s cock at a tantalizingly slow pace. “I wanna see you restless as you drink this and then have to sit through dinner. Who knows, maybe if you’re still desperate after dessert, I’ll meet you in the garden and fuck your hole in the bushes?”

  Clover’s features twisted, but he didn’t argue and rubbed his flushed cheeks, taking deep breaths to will the erection away. Pyro loved watching him in this horny state. He wasn’t patient enough himself, but Drake was the master of delayed gratification, and watching him play with Clover for ages while that pink cock remained unsatisfied, dripping pre-cum as Clover struggled in bondage was Pyro’s go-to masturbatory fantasy.

  “Mean. Remind me why I like you again?” Clover asked, but it was a weak protest. Pyro knew exactly what kind of appeal he had for Clover. Where Tank was stability, he was the dynamite under Clover’s feet. Always a challenge. Always a surprise. Never boring.

  So he gave Clover a quick kiss and got on with the cocktails for everyone else, with the boy’s heavy breathing as a constant reminder that he’d been left unsatisfied for Pyro’s pleasure.

  “Have I ever told you I love your ink?” Clover asked, but it wouldn’t help his case.

  “Yep. Flattery’s not getting your dick sucked. This time.” Because it did usually work. Pyro was only human.

  Clover’s mouth twisted, and he pushed back his pale hair. “It was worth a shot.”

  They didn’t take long after that, and they walked back into the dining room with Clover hiding his erection from Jolene behind the drinks cart.

  “What took you boys so long?” she asked, pointing at a dish full of white sauce and dusted with fried onions. “My famous seafood casserole’s going to get cold.”

  “I’m very sorry Jolene, but Clover couldn’t find the last ingredient he wanted in his cocktail. And once we got it, he wouldn’t give it a rest until he made you the perfect glass of Dr. Pepper Bourbon.”

  Clover gave a nervous smile and put the glass in front of Jolene, but quickly scrambled away from sight, crotch hidden under the table. God, did Pyro love causing mayhem.

  Jolene’s face radiated contentment as she took the first sip of her cocktail. “It is perfect, Clover. Thank you! You may not cook, but I’m sure Adam will never complain about your bartending skills.”

  Tank gave her an uncomfortable smile but relaxed when Clover sat down next to him. Jolene, though, wasn’t done yet. “I was just telling them how Adam damaged his only running shoes at seven and wouldn’t stop crying until I mended them. And look at him now. He’s made it big, and he is helping out his grandma,” she said, pointing to her loud decor with obvious pride. “Too bad he doesn’t stop by more often.”

  Clover’s shoulders hunched when Tank wordlessly took his plate and put some of the casserole in the middle before adding side dishes. But Clover’s appetite didn’t lie in the food. His cheeks looked as if they’d been pinched when he met Pyro’s gaze and lifted the glass to his mouth.

  Go on, boy. Drink it next to grandma.

  Pyro couldn’t take his eyes off the slutty lips touching the glass, feeling a jolt go down his spine when Clover took a sip of the creamy drink that filled the glass as if it were full of Pyro’s cum.

  “Nevada’s far away,” Tank said.

  “Excuses,” she scoffed, but glanced at Clover with fondness.

  Pyro couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed his phone under the table and texted Boar when Jolene decided to pull out an album with old photos.

  [Clover’s drinking my cum.]

  As soon as he read the
text, Boar’s eyes widened in that adorable way that made Pyro want to kiss him right then and there, by Jolene’s table.

  You did not, Boar mouthed, but a smile was tugging on his lips as he glanced toward the boy, who smacked his lips after taking yet another sip. Arousal hit Pyro so hard he put his hand on Boar’s thigh and squeezed it, but they could hardly run off for a quickie in the middle of dinner. Not when Jolene was intent on showing them everything Tank had been up to as a baby.

  Her attentive eyes strayed to Clover at the sound he made. “Are you enjoying your cocktail?”

  “Y-yes, it’s very nice, thank you,” Clover said, meeting Pyro’s gaze over the table.

  Tank managed to smile and reached for the glass, making the food consumed earlier rise in Pyro’s throat with the gesture. Tank drinking his cum? Eww.

  “Can I try it?”

  But Clover took the drink away from him, masking his nervousness with a laugh. “Oh no, I like it too much. You have to get your own.”

  “Clover’s taste is very particular,” Pyro added. “Likes his drinks extra creamy. It’s why it took so long.”

  Tank stilled, and the mortified face he made could’ve turned some people into stone. But it didn’t affect Pyro, who raised his glass in a toast.

  He loved fucking with people.

  The casserole was edible, though only just, but the dessert salad consisting of cut-up Snickers bars, peanut butter, green apples, and Cool Whip was the shit, and Pyro wolfed down two oversized servings of it. By the time Pyro’s stomach was full, he didn’t even have the strength to laugh at Tank’s misery anymore, but the constant chatting about family matters led to questions aimed at everyone. So he distracted himself by pouring more and more alcohol down his throat.

  No, he did not have any baby photos of himself. Neither did his mother. They all died, Jolene. They were dead to him.

  He hated the fact that it still bothered him, and even seeing Clover’s empty glass couldn’t cheer him up anymore.