by Kaje Harper
“This bed is right here,” Casey said. “With a naked man in it.”
“He’s wearing a towel,” Scott said.
“You could fix that.”
“Yeah. I could.”
Scott reached toward Will under the covers, and Will obligingly lifted his ass off the towel so Scott could tug it free. The rasp of terrycloth across his skin stirred him, his cock rising with interest. The way Casey leaned in to suck and bite on Scott’s neck didn’t hurt either. Scott tipped his head back to give Casey more room, and Will grunted. “You two are so damned hot.”
Casey grinned at him and told Scott, “Clothes off.”
“I will if you will.”
Will said, “Strip for me?”
“Ooh, I like that.” Scott stood up and began unbuttoning his shirt with flirty glances, running his finger down his chest and abs as they were revealed, stroking hard planes of muscles marked with bruises Will had learned to ignore.
Casey got up more slowly. Where Scott swung his hips to some unheard music, vamping as he tugged his shirttails from his jeans, Casey just smoldered. He kept his eyes on Will and slowly, methodically undid. Button. After. Button. Pausing with each one to take a slow breath. His cock strained the front of his jeans, and his furry chest rose and fell as he moved his hands lower, carefully freeing his belt from the buckle.
Will licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry. “I want…”
“What?” Casey’s voice was a deep rumble.
“Fuck me? I want you in my ass and Scott in my mouth.”
“I don’t hate that idea,” Scott said.
“On your knees,” Casey told Will. “Head at the edge of the bed.”
Will shoved the covers off himself and scrambled to obey. He was hard already, aching, his breath coming faster. He planted himself on hands and knees, his eyes fixed on where Scott was slowly pushing his jeans down. There was a wet spot on Scott’s underwear, outlining the head of his cock. Will swallowed. Scott rubbed himself, using his fingers to pull his boxer briefs tight and show off his hard size. He slid his thumbs into his waistband and slowly pushed downward. His cock stretched the fabric. Will watched, mesmerized, as Scott’s hands framed, trapped and then released his big prick. It bobbed happily, above the dark curls of his groin.
Casey went to Scott and kissed him, pinching his nipples hard. Scott groaned and arched his muscular chest against Casey’s hands. Casey bent his head to lick and then bite, as Scott grabbed his skull between his big hands. He guided Casey to his other pec and they pushed together, biting, stroking, bucking skin against skin until Will could almost see the heat radiating between them. Will whimpered, wanting that instead of the cool air around him.
Casey stepped away from Scott and stalked behind Will, leaning to put a hard hand on Will’s ass. “Haven’t forgotten you.” He knelt on the bed between Will’s legs and slid his hands over Will’s body, touching, tweaking. A rough thumb brushed Will’s nipple and he grunted. Casey kissed his shoulder, licked his jaw, rubbed his stomach down almost, almost far enough. Then slid up and tweaked a nipple again instead. Scott stood watching, stroking himself with one hand, working his own balls with the other.
Will muttered, “Please,” and Casey nipped his neck and straightened.
“Open your mouth.”
Will did as he was told and Scott took two steps forward. He wrapped a fist around his cock and tapped Will’s upper lip with the damp head. Will put out his tongue, trying to taste, but Scott teased him, stroking it over his chin and cheek, pulling away as he turned, chasing that touch, seeking more.
Casey said, “Before you get preoccupied, Scott, lube?”
“My bag. Small front pocket.”
Casey dug into Scott’s zipped bag and pulled out a tube. He squinted at it. “Kiwi-strawberry? Really?”
Scott grunted as Will got his mouth on the tip of his cock. “Uh. Not as gross as you might think.”
“Do I want to know why?” There was a click and then Will felt slick cool fingers stroke between his cheeks.
“The citrus one itches me.” Scott moved closer. The big plum-head of his cock filled Will’s mouth perfectly. He sucked hard, using the tip of his tongue to play with the little cord underneath.
Casey snorted. “Why flavored in your travel bag, moron.”
Scott cupped his hands around Will’s face, stroking the hollows of his cheeks. “I jerk off. I sometimes suck my fingers. It’s nice if it doesn’t gag me. Plus it comes in handy sizes. Yeah, Will, so good. More.” He flexed his hips and Will relaxed his throat to take Scott deeper.
He had to brace his arms, as Casey’s thick fingertip breached him. The bed dipped between his knees, as Casey moved closer.
“So hot, Will.” Casey’s deep growl made Will’s own cock jerk and leak. “Your ass is perfect. I’m gonna fuck it soon.”
Will couldn’t answer, but he groaned around Scott’s cock in approval and tasted a spurt of salty precum on his tongue. He tipped his head to open to Scott’s deeper thrusts. Casey’s fingers on his left hip steadied him, as his other hand spread Will’s ass. Will moaned, and the vibration drew a noise from Scott, a whimper of need that went straight to Will’s groin.
“So fucking hot,” Casey said. “Look at you, Will.”
Will couldn’t see much, but he could feel, taste, hear, smell, as Scott gripped his head tighter, fucking his mouth in little jerky drives that took his breath, in bursts of skin and salt and vanilla-sweat flavors. Casey’s finger left his ass and was replaced by his cock, a perfect stretch. Casey’s groan was jerky, as he worked deeper into Will. Will arched his back, trying to relax to it, feeling himself taken and filled front and back, by the men he loved.
Scott panted, “Go deep, Case. I love watching you. God. God!” His thrusts were becoming jerkier, almost past what Will’s throat could handle. Behind Will, Casey drove into him, in long, slow controlled strokes.
“Oh, Jesus,” Scott moaned. “Coming.” Will tasted the flash of slick spunk in his mouth, a hint, a burst, and then a flood. Scott groaned and clamped his fingers onto Will’s head. Casey pulled out for a moment and leaned forward, one hand on Will’s back, to kiss Scott through his climax. Will braced and closed his eyes, listening to Scott’s sounds.
After a moment Scott said, “Fuck. Gotta sit down. Pass me the lube.”
There was movement, and Will’s mouth lost Scott’s softening erection. He whined, empty for a moment, but didn’t open his eyes.
“Easy,” Casey was back behind him, shoving in. Without Scott in his mouth, Will lowered his chest to the bed and braced himself. Casey’s rhythm picked up speed and force, his hips slapping against Will’s ass, his breath coming in deep grunts as if forced from his lungs.
A slick hand closed around Will’s cock and he gasped against the edge of the bed. The tight heat around him almost made him come right there.
“I have you,” Scott said from the floor, somewhere near Will’s chin. “Fuck him through the bed, Case.”
Casey was doing just that, pounding Will’s ass while Scott jerked him, tight and slippery and fast. Scott’s fingers slid over his cockhead, twisting, and Will keened and came, lost it, spurted again and again into that knowing grip. Casey’s weight pressed down over him, Casey’s arm was an iron bar under his chest, and he heard the sounds, felt the heat and shudders, as Casey unloaded inside him.
“Oh hell,” he moaned, every part of his body taken and used and loved and wrung out. “Oh man. Oh God.” He opened his eyes. Scott let go, stretched up from where he knelt by the bed to kiss Will’s cheek, and wiped his sticky hand on the sheet before turning to sit down hard on the floor. Casey was a solid weight against Will’s back. Will closed his eyes again and rubbed his cheek slowly on Scott’s hair, as his twitching, shaky muscles made themselves felt from his jaw to his cramping toes.
“That was so damned hot,” Scott muttered hoarsely.
As they breathed together, rasping and panting down from climax, Casey’s cell pho
ne rang in his discarded pants.
“Shit.” Casey pulled out, with a quick kiss to Will’s spine when he gasped in protest, then rolled off the bed, and found his phone. “Barlow.” His voice didn’t even tremble.
Will was impressed, as he shoved his own face into the covers to muffle his harsh breaths.
“Yeah? When? Dammit, okay, keep him there.” Casey hung up and turned to them. “Sorry, guys. I have to go in.”
“No fair. I’m leaving in the morning,” Scott pouted in a nasal whine.
Casey bent and kissed him, then nipped his bottom lip between admonitory teeth. “I won’t be too long. I hope.”
“I’ll be really glad when you give up the sheriffing,” Scott said, then colored, and went quickly to his normal voice. “Sorry, Casey. You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I do.” Casey pulled on his shorts, his gaze fixed on the floor. “It will make things easier. There’s a lot about being a cop I won’t miss. I just wish I could get the guy who killed the Slaters, before I have to give it up.” He tugged on his T-shirt. “I’m going to grab a uniform. I’ll be back later. Keep each other warm.” He grinned at them and turned to go. If Will hadn’t known him very well, he’d have missed the shadows behind Casey’s smile.
Scott knew him too, and when Casey shut the door behind him, Scott blew out a breath and said, “Damn it. Screwed that up.”
Will lifted the covers for him. “No, you didn’t. We’re all touchy right now. Get in.”
Scott slid into bed, putting his cold feet against Will’s warm ones. “You and I are the lucky ones. We get to keep doing what we love. Except, damn, you lost the Slaters. Sorry. Foot in mouth disease tonight.”
Will held him close. Scott was warm and a little damp and smelled of sex and male skin. He kissed him, enjoying giving Scott back a taste of himself. He responded languidly at first, then eagerly. After a while, Will joked, “I have something better than a foot to put in your mouth.”
Scott slid a hand down between them, and Will’s interest began perking up for real. He turned and opened his thighs. Scott stroked his hand down Will’s length, gliding nicely on the remnants of the lube. “Good thing this was flavored after all,” he said, and moved lower under the covers, his tongue tracing a route Will definitely approved of.
Chapter 7
Casey looked around the barnyard as he pulled up at the ranch a week later. No strange vehicles tonight. It was just as well. He wasn’t feeling patient. Yesterday he’d come home to find two guys trying to talk Will into selling the ranch. Rick Grieg and Landry Sims, of Cobalt Energy, according to the shiny blue business card the taller guy had held out to Will. Casey’d taken it, read it, ripped it up, and suggested nicely that they might want to go somewhere else. When they’d tried to shift their sales pitch to him, he’d repeated that, not so nicely.
Tonight, he might’ve punctuated it with his fist.
Scott hadn’t been back in Canada that long, and already Casey missed the hell out of him. Truth be told, he’d missed Scott from the moment he put him on the plane, for all kinds of reasons, but it was worse right now. He was edgy and irritable. He wanted someone to talk to, so he could bitch about the Slater case. Someone who wasn’t a deputy who’d be working for Todd soon, and who wasn’t Will, for whom everything about the case cut like broken glass.
He glared at his phone in the cup holder and stayed in the truck, waiting for his callback in the dark yard. After ten minutes it rang. The cop out there in Bangor, Maine, said, “Sheriff? Sorry. We didn’t get anything else from the driver.”
He rolled his eyes, as if the guy could see his expression. “I need something more to go on. You’re sure the bastard can’t give you a better description than ‘middle-aged white guy with dark hair’?”
“Nope. He says, yeah, some guy gave him ten grand to shove the pickup off the road, but they only met in the bar by chance. He was desperate for money, the guy was desperate for murder, and there you go. He’s such a tool, I kinda believe it. The money was dropped off in cash, before and after, but he says he never got another look at the guy. I did a lineup with the photos you sent me of the grandson and the foreman, and he said it wasn’t neither of them. Nor the realtor, nor any of the ones you used to round out the lineup. He claims the money guy wasn’t any of those.”
“You think he’s telling the truth?” Maybe he needed to add Grieg and Sims to the list. They’d been pretty persistent yesterday.
“I’m not sure. He’s not smart, but he’s cagey. He could be flat out lying or just holding something back. Waiting for us to sweeten the deal.”
“You told him he’s on the hook for murder, unless he rolls over on someone?”
“Loud and clear.”
Casey managed not to swear, but he pounded his fist on his knee, hard enough to bruise. “Okay. What about shipping him back here?”
“We got him on a hit-and-run here too, although it’s manslaughter, not murder. But we’re bigger, and we’ve got good witnesses. Your DA is talking to our DA.”
“Right.”
“I’ll let you know if he changes his story.”
“Thanks.”
Casey slid his phone into his pocket and got out of the truck. It was late. Chores were no doubt long finished, and the hands would be in the bunkroom watching TV or getting ready for bed. Casey thought about where he was likely to find Will, and turned away from the big house toward Will’s trailer. With Scott gone, Will was being more cautious about time together. Three guys hanging out looked like friends, two guys might be something different. Rumors were hard to stop, once they started.
Sure enough, when he got close to the trailer, he heard Will’s acoustic guitar. For a few minutes, he stood on the step, listening. The mellow song and soft tones of the strings fit with Will. Like, you could picture the guy he was, just by hearing him play.
There was a pause, the music stopped, then the door opened. Will said quietly, “You coming inside?”
“Yeah.” He slid past Will, waited for the door to close, and kissed him quickly.
“Long day.”
“Yep.”
“Want a beer?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
They detoured to the kitchen to grab a couple of brews and ended up in the den. Casey twisted the top off his bottle and took a long pull. “So, anything particular today I should know about?”
“Nah. One of the Charolais miscarried. One single doesn’t worry me.”
“They seem like they’re less hardy than the Angus.”
“Yep, to me too. That’s part of why we’re not fully switching over. What about you? Catch any bad guys?”
Casey wanted to tell him about the driver of the green semi cab, under arrest for three days now in Maine. But it still wasn’t the right time. “Kyle got the kid who’d been doing the graffiti downtown. It was the gym teacher’s boy. He’s gonna be doing push-ups for the next ten years if his dad has anything to say about it.”
“Oh. One odd thing.” Will went to the hall and grabbed an envelope off the shelf. “This came in the mail. No return address. I’d have opened it, but I thought it might be a cop thing.”
Casey took the manila envelope. He could feel a lump in it. The address was printed in capital letters, to him, at the Tri-Cross. Will passed him a penknife and he slit it open. A plain thumb drive and a folded paper slid into his hand. He set the drive aside, unfolded the paper.
All caps, no signature. “$100,000. I KNOW YOU CAN GET IT. OR THIS GOES TO THE DEPUTIES AND THE LOCAL NEWS AND THAT HOCKEY FRIEND OF YOURS. THEY’LL ALL KNOW. INSTRUCTIONS TO FOLLOW.”
Casey stared at it blankly, read it twice, until Will got up and came around to read over his shoulder.
“What the hell?” Will muttered. “Some kind of blackmail?”
“Looks like it.” Casey was surprised at his own calm.
“For what?”
“One way to find out.” He used the corner of his shirt to pick up the drive, and hesitate
d. His computer was up in the house, but he didn’t want to stick this into Will’s, in case it had a virus. He’d had a techy friend do his own security. Hadn’t gotten around to suggesting that Will get more than what came in the box. “I want to look at this on my machine.”
“Sure.”
Will locked the trailer behind them. A cold breeze across the back of his neck made him shiver as they walked up to the big house. Will let them inside, while Casey carried the drive in his shirt and the letter by one corner. When they were set, he pushed the drive into the port by its end, trying not to smudge any prints. He’d expected pictures or documents, but an audio file came up.
He hit “Play”.
There was a long silence, then his own voice. “Will, get naked.”
Stunned, he almost stopped the playback, but Will grabbed his wrist. “We need to know.”
On the speaker, Will said, “Pushy tonight.”
Him: “Just horny.”
Will: “Works for me.”
They listened through, about ten minutes that Casey remembered from three nights ago. Unmistakable, with both their names, and the deep, rough sounds of their sex. Will had fucked him that time, although it wasn’t completely clear from the recording. Without Scott, they tended toward wordless gasps and grunts. It hardly mattered. It was them and it was as gay as Colby Keller’s videos. Although with poorer production values.
The sound clip shut off. Will said softly, “Damn.”
“Yeah.” Casey stared at the blank screen, the little arrow offering him the chance to hear it again.
“Now what?”
Casey flipped the paper open, trying not to touch any more of it, and read it again. “One good thing…” he said, then stopped short. “Shit.” He hauled Will up and out of the house, down toward the barn. Will came along willingly. They ended up in the tack room.
Casey said softly, “The house was bugged.”
“Oh! Hell. Yeah.”
“Unless he used a parabolic recorder. Which is possible, but it’d be hard out here in the open countryside. Someone might see it. I’m betting on a bug.” He scrolled down his phone contacts list. There. He dialed. The “Hello” on the other end was still familiar.