Worth A Shot: Worth It: Book 5

by Styles, Peter

  Every muscles on him quivered as I massaged and tugged and prodded him, punctuating a few of those with another swat of the crop that left angry blushing splotches over his smooth skin, beautiful flaws, until he lost his fucking mind and went back to babbling.

  “You fucking love that, don’t you?” I mused, wiggling my digit against his prostate so that he jerked and bucked against the bench, his hips hunching against the bench in a helpless attempt to relieve his cock.

  His voice came out ragged and tortured. “Yes, sir. God I fucking love it, sir…”

  I growled and worked him as long as I could, wanting to draw it out all night, but eventually I couldn’t hold myself back any longer. I tossed the crop to the side and undid my pants, not bothering to get naked. I circled around to the front of the bench and grabbed a fistful of hair to lift his head so that my cock swayed just beyond his lips. He gave a plaintive little moan of need and tried to stretch to reach it with his tongue.

  “Yeah, you want that cock, don’t you, baby?” I wagged it back and forth slowly, careful to barely graze the tip of his tongue. “Want to taste that before I fucked wreck you with it? Hmm?”

  “Please, sir,” Nico begged. “Use me. Use everything, sir. My fucking mouth… my hole, Landon please, I want it…”

  I waited until his begging reached a fever pitch before I hooked my thumb over his teeth to open his jaw wide and slid my dick inside. He tried to clamp down, to suck it right, but I held him back just a moment to glide myself over his undulating tongue. Fuck, but that was just about all I needed at that point. The slick muscle flicked and trailed and scooped at me, doing everything he could until finally I let his jaw go and his mouth closed around me tight, his cheeks hollow, his tongue massaging to suckled anything I would give him out of me. I groaned as a shiver of pleasure traveled through my cock, down to my balls, and spread like a quiet wildfire through every bone in my body. My knees shook, and in another moment I pulled back until only his lips were latched onto the head of my cock. Then, slow, I pushed in and held that handful of hair steady as I pressed beyond his tongue, into his throat and carefully bottomed out, my balls pressed to his chin.

  My beautiful little cock-hound gave no complaint as I filled his throat, instead swallowing slow. Every muscle in there contracted and tugged, and I had to make a quick decision whether I should blow my load right down his gullet or save it for the other end.

  I pulled out just as that first spark of warning lit and he gasped, drooling from one corner of his mouth as he caught his breath.

  “You want it here?” I asked, trailing my finger along his throat. “Or the other end?”

  “Wherever you want, sir,” he answered.

  I smirked. “Good answer. But you choose.”

  “My ass,” he said, without a moment’s thought. “I need you to fill me up, sir. I want to feel you come inside me…”

  I brushed my slick cock over his lips. “Alright, boy. That sweet hole it is, then.”

  There was a large pump dispenser of lube and a bowl of condoms on a stand in the corner. It only took a moment before I was ready.

  I ran my nails against the abused flesh of his ass, and Nico drew in a shocked gasp at the sensation as I slathered more lube down his crack.

  I pulled his cheeks apart, pressing the head of my cock to his tight, winking hole.

  Slowly, carefully, I pushed inside, letting my cock alone work him open around me. His body was hot, clutching and pulling at me to get me inside. That warm silk of his tunnel glided over me an inch at a time and every inch took me an act of willpower to resist. Once in, I let us both take a moment to adjust, only a moment, before my hands clenched at his waist and I began to fuck into him savagely.

  He was beyond speaking, panting and shouting as my cock pummeled his prostate over and over again.

  “Fuck, baby you look so good like this,” I ground out, between clench teeth. “Your hole is swallowing me up. So fucking tight for me. God damn I’m fucking close…”

  I kept snapping my hips, losing myself to the clinging heat that was clenching and releasing around my cock as I slammed into him over and over again. Suddenly, something shifted. Nico clamped down on me more tightly, and he gurgled my name. His ass pulsed a second time, releasing and squeezing my cock, and then again as his body shook the bench and he howled.

  “Papi,” he wailed, “f-fuck… my fucking… I’m fucking coming, Landon don’t fucking stop…”

  The rest was an ecstatic, warbling cry of pleasure as he came without touching himself for what seemed like a full minute or more, his ass continually clenching until finally I lost it. I fell forward on him, dug my fingers into his shoulder with one hand and pulled at a handful of hair with the other as the muscle of my abdomen locked up. I roared, and thrust in hard to the root as my fucking world melted and turned into a white hot explosion of relief and release.

  “Yes,” Nico whispered, just once, as I hunched against him and fucked through my orgasm. My ears rang, my vision when white, and I kept going until my knees started to give out. Even then, I managed to thrust twice more before I finally pulled out of him and staggered.

  I didn’t even clean myself up when I slipped the full condom off and tossed it down the chute attached to the wall. Where that went, I didn’t want to know. I tucked myself away, and used some of the wet wipes on the little table to clean Nico’s ass up before I let him off the bench so he could stand up. When he did, he nearly fell over.

  I caught him, one arm snaked under his shoulder, and pressed my mouth to his in a hungry, satisfied kiss that left us both panting.

  When we parted, finally, I gave him a last nip on his lower lip and nodded at the mess he’d made on the tile below the bench. “Clean that shit up,” I murmured. “Then let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  Nico nodded weakly, and brushed his lips over mine. “Yes, sir.”

  * * *

  We were back at the hotel. Nico stretched out on his stomach at my side, his head nestled comfortably against my chest, fast asleep. When we’d gotten back here, I’d undressed him, helped him find a comfortable position to sleep, and as he’d drifted off, I’d told him I’d see it through.

  “I promise,” I had said.

  But now, as he slept unaware, I again studied the ceiling. He’d sounded so hopeful earlier this evening. As I looked over to his relaxed face, I hoped, first, that I hadn’t set him up for a bad fall, and, second, thinking about my conversation with Sheriff Wolfton, I hoped I hadn’t set myself up for one as well.

  13

  The drive to Worthington was fun. Landon was friendlier and more casual than he usually was, and now that things were more out in the open about the kinds of things that we enjoyed doing with each other, it was easier to be in one another’s company. If I got too mouthy or just wanted to mess with him, Landon would warn me off with a ‘watch it, kid’ or something else that sounded grumpy but good-natured, sort of like Landon himself. I let my guard down, too.

  “Gosh,” I said once on the way back, “I get why you don’t want to say goodbye yet, but, if you drive any slower, I’m going to miss my own graduation, grandpa.”

  Landon rolled his eyes in response. He was trying to act serious, but I could tell he was enjoying my teasing from the way he let me catch him rolling his eyes. The stoic, unmovable Case that I’d met at the beginning of all of this seemed to be gone for now and maybe other people wouldn’t have appreciated the difference, but even this Landon was a lot less uptight than the original version.

  “I can’t speed, Nico,” he explained, as though he had to explain things very slowly and very gently to me. “I’m a cop, remember?”

  “So?” I shot back with a grin, “Cops speed the most. Anyway, I’m pretty sure you’ve been doing a lot of things on this trip that you ‘can’t’ or ‘aren’t’ supposed to do.” I pointed out, making air quotes with one hand.

  “Is that a complaint?” Landon asked. This time, I could see the beginnings of a smirk o
n his lip as he fought to tug it down. Maybe what we were literally saying wasn’t different than the kinds of things we would say to each other at the beginning, but it felt different, it felt like teasing now instead of actual insults, like a game to play similar to the other games we’d played.

  “Nope.” I answered brightly, “No complaints from me whatsoever.”

  When we’d first started out, I couldn’t wait to get out of the car whenever I had a chance to. Being in close proximity to him felt awkward and I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to lean into it and accept the closeness that the car ride forced us into or whether I wanted this trip to over as soon as possible so I could get back to my regular life. Now that the trip was actually at a close, I finally had the answer to that tension I’d felt at first. I could have never imagined it was going to be that hard to say goodbye to him, not when he ran that first name for me at the precinct and not even after all that we’d done together. It was somehow harder than it had ever been to say goodbye to boyfriends I wasn’t going to see for a long time or any other relationship I had for comparison. He pulled up to my house and we kind of sat in silence for a little bit before he cleared his throat and started to make his own effort at a goodbye.

  “Well,” Landon said, nodding his head like he was building himself up to it. “You’re here.”

  “Yep,” I agreed, before quickly adding, “Are you trying to come inside?”

  “No! No,” Landon answered just as quickly as I had, “No, I’m not angling for anything, I was just giving you time to get out whenever you were ready.”

  “Sure,” I agreed, nodding and falling back into an awkward silence, “You’ll keep me posted?”

  “Definitely. I’ll let you know as soon as I know anything.”

  “Okay,” I said, searching around for other things to talk about it before I absolutely had to leave the car for good. Not finding much of anything, I sort of shrugged and admitted to myself that it was time. “Well, I’ll be expecting a phone call, I guess. Seriously though, I know I said it before, but thanks for everything.”

  “No trouble,” Landon said as he started to shake his head but then seemed like he thought about it more. “Well, I mean, it was trouble. But, you’re welcome,” he joked mildly.

  I laughed even when he didn’t, getting my stuff and letting myself out of the car. Walking around to the driver’s side as I got ready to head up to my building, I decided that I couldn’t let him leave without one last jab, called to him through his rolled-down window.

  “Buenas noches, papi,”

  Despite himself, he let out a short, surprised kind of chuckle and shook his head for real this time, almost like he couldn’t believe the awkwardness of this in comparison to everything we’d gotten up to. I couldn’t blame him, either. I felt more naked and embarrassed here than I did at The Black Room.

  He huffed and composed himself before he answered me in what is probably the worst Spanish I’ve ever heard in my life.

  “Buenas noches, Nico,”

  And he left.

  It was hard over the next couple of days to not let my mind wander back to Landon too much but I had the ultimate distractor which was my tio and his case and the news that I was going to deliver. Quinn was good about coming with me to the prison. Quinn was good about most things like that and was usually a good enough friend to help out with whatever needed doing, even if he grumbled about it. Weirdly, he didn’t grumble at all about making the drive down to Worthington County State Penitentiary and even came prepared with lattes for the drive. I was too excited to wonder why he might be so eager to volunteer, but I was grateful.

  We caught up on how things were back at the farm, how his mother was, stuff like that until we actually made it to the prison. I appreciated the chance to talk about anything other than the case while we waited to be let in to see my tio. I figured that if Quinn pried about what had happened on my road trip, I’d have to tell him the whole story, and I definitely would have rather had that conversation after meeting with my uncle and settling business and not before.

  Thankfully, it wasn’t too long a wait this time, and, pretty soon, Uncle Oliver and I greeted each other, palms pressed on either side of the plexiglass. I edited out all of the parts about me and Landon, of course, and summarized as much as I could to keep in mind our time limit, but, excitedly, I told Tio Oliver about Nina, the Thurstons, Zane, the handwriting in the letter, and everything we’d learned on our trip.

  On the one hand, I thought I was pretty slick, avoiding the parts that I’d rather my tio not know about. On the other hand, my uncle was always the best at catching me when I thought I was being the smartest.

  “What?” I tried to ask innocently as my uncle raised an eyebrow at me. I was in the middle of describing a conversation with Landon that I thought was very relevant. Uncle Oliver also must have thought it was relevant, if for a very different reason.

  “Nico. Mijo,” my tio said. “I understand if you and this…this Landon are getting along, but—”he paused and shook his head, “I don’t know. Keep in mind he doesn’t have any reason to help us. In fact, he has every reason not to help us. Since you’ve decided to do this, don’t let your feelings get in the way. And as far as his promises? Hasta no ver, no creer, Nico. Remember.”

  Hasta no ver, no creer. That was like ‘seeing is believing’ but almost like in reverse. A type of saying we had that meant ‘without seeing, there is no believing.’

  “I know, tio. But we’re close. I can feel it. I think this has potential,” I said meaning the new evidence we’d dug up and not necessarily Landon. I could tell, though, that my uncle and I were having two very different conversations at the same time. “I think the evidence has the potential to get you off, I mean. And….” I hesitated before continuing, “I think Landon might, too. I think he understands the risks, but I really think he wants to make this right. I think I trust him.”

  “Ok, mijo. I hope you’re right,” my uncle said to close the conversation. “I hope you’re right.”

  “Me too, tio,” I said, just as our time was called, and Quinn waved goodbye. “Me, too.”

  If Quinn had been alright with making small talk on the way up to Worthington County State Penitentiary, the conversation he’d witnessed with my uncle made him absolutely not okay with being left out of the story so far.

  “So…?” Quinn prodded me as I drove us back.

  “So what?” I said, playing dumb.

  “So? You’re stupid if you think that either of us, me or your uncle, really believed that that’s the whole story. I was cool with letting you play your hand close to your chest on the way up, you know. I figured you wouldn’t want to tell the same long story twice. But, everyone could tell that there’s way more to that than you volunteered just now.”

  “So? What if there is?” I shrugged. “I got more important things to tell my uncle.”

  “Good thing I’m not your uncle, then. Now,” he pressed, settling into his seat like he was settling in for story time. “Spill. I want everything. Every detail. Everything. And not so much about all that Sherlock Holmes, CSI business. I mean about Landon. Go on. I’m listening.”

  Well, like he’d said, he was listening, and I honestly wanted someone to talk to. There are some things that are pointless to try to hide from an ex. They’ve basically seen and known everything there is to see and know about you, anyway.

  So, I did, I told him everything. From slugging Landon—or, trying to, anyway—in the parking lot of The Longhorn to talking him into coming back inside with me in the parking lot of The Black Room, I filled in Quinn on every little detail of our road trip.

  “He isn’t the asshole that I thought he was,” I explained to Quinn once I was done.

  Quinn snorted.

  “What?” I asked, taking my eyes off the road to find him pursing his lips like he did when he didn’t believe my bullshit. “Oh. I get it. Yeah, well, okay. He is an asshole. But, you know....”

  Quinn
sighed as though he couldn’t believe he had to condescend to explaining such an obvious thing out loud. “He’s an asshole in exactly the kind of way that you’d hoped someone would be an asshole to you?”

  “I mean. Yeah. Exactly.”

  “Ugh,” Quinn rolled his eyes, seemingly at my entire story and not just as the admission he’d gotten me to make. “No wonder we didn’t work out.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, a real spike of worry cutting through all the shit we were giving each other. Had I said something wrong?

  “You obviously want a top to end all tops and I’m…. you know…not. A top, that is. I think, if I had to pick between the two, I’d probably see myself more on your side of things so, you know, it makes sense that it didn’t work out between us.”

  I shrugged. That did make sense. I’d never thought of it that way but, in light of everything that had happened with Landon, I could see where Quinn was coming from.

  “Anyway,” Quinn continued, “All that sounds great. If—and I feel like I should emphasize this if, Nico Suarez. I know how you like liars and the bad ones, in general—if Landon comes through.”

  “Yeah, I mean, technically,” I said. I could grant that. “But, why wouldn’t he?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know the guy. But you said he was a deputy, and a deputy might not be able to do that much. What if he was saying all of that to get into your pants, and he really can’t do much for Oliver?”

  “No, it’s not that I expect him to do anything by himself. He’s just…closer to the sheriff and the sheriff is closer to the DA. He’s a good cop and they’ll listen to him way before anyone listens to me.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I mean, though. The sheriff, the department, the DA. Even if Landon did go to them, aren’t you asking them to admit that they royally fucked up somewhere along the line? Wouldn’t somebody have to answer for that? The sheriff, the department, or the DA, for example?”