by Pam Godwin
“You think I can’t make you hard?” Ricky winged up a sexy brow.
“Not if you’re bossy.”
“Take off your clothes.”
With a sigh, Martin stood and stripped. His briefs hit the floor last, and a masculine sound rumbled deep in Ricky’s chest.
As Martin lowered back to the bed, Ricky didn’t wait for an objection. He knelt between Martin’s thighs and slowly sucked the soft length of him between those talented lips.
“Ah, fuck.” His hand went to Ricky’s hair, clenching hard.
Ricky released him with a pop and shook his head. “Soft and easy.”
“Fine.” He braced his hands behind him.
Returning to his cock, Ricky licked along the shaft from balls to tip, sending languorous ripples of pleasure through his groin. Ricky went at it assertively but not aggressively. Soft unhurried sucks and teasing licks filled him with blood and quickened his breaths.
“I’ve wanted to do this for years.” Ricky swirled his tongue across Martin’s scrotum.
“You’ve done it a million times in my head, and swear to God, it’s never felt this incredible.”
“And you’re not even punching the back of my throat.”
“The urge is there, but…”
Ricky sucked on the crown, flicking his tongue along the underside, where all the nerves resided. “Feel that?”
“Fuck yeah, I feel it.” The stimulation of his glans spread electricity through his body. Feverish chills. Breathless invigoration. Every sensation was new and different.
“You don’t experience that when you’re pounding someone’s mouth like a jackhammer.” Ricky blew a soft breath along his length. “Don’t get me wrong. There’s freedom in letting go, but there’s so much sensuality in a kiss.”
He proceeded to kiss Martin’s cock with firm lips and an agonizingly talented tongue. The sensuality Ricky mentioned was a slow burn. A fusion of feelings. A different kind of energy, emotion, and artistry.
His legs shook against a building orgasm, and just when he thought he might come, Ricky’s glorious mouth abandoned him.
“Lie back.” Ricky patted his thigh.
Martin stretched out across the two beds, and Ricky crawled over him, kneeling between his legs.
“You’re so goddamn arresting.” Ricky caressed a hand down Martin’s chest. “Seeing you laid out like this, aroused and bare for me…” The roving caress continued along his hip and down his leg. “Every inch of you makes me hard.”
“Show me.”
Ricky rose up on his knees and lazily stroked his cock. Tall and stacked with muscle, the man was fucking gorgeous.
Leaning back down, Ricky angled his hips and aligned their dicks side by side. Then he rubbed them together, gliding his hand up and down the lengths, slowly jacking them off.
There were no words after that. No race to a finish line. No mindless, uncontrollable thrusting. Ricky fondled and explored with expert fingers solely for the pleasure of touch and affection.
Martin saw it in Ricky’s eyes, felt it in every loving stroke. Ricky intended to make love to him, and the prospect filled him with a need that went beyond physical lust.
Ricky moved up his body and worshiped him with lips and tongue. A kiss on the scar on his head. A nibble on his ear lobe. A lick across his mouth. Then he slid downward, paying homage to skin and muscle. By the time he finished, he’d kissed every part of Martin’s anatomy he could reach.
The adoration left Martin panting and twisting on the bed. Blissful heat bloomed around his perineum and disseminated through his balls and anus. He felt Ricky everywhere, around him, against him, inside him, and they hadn’t even had sex.
The eternal buildup had produced the deepest, most intense feeling in his body. The fire Ricky had stoked howled into a conflagration. Martin needed to fuck, and he didn’t care how. Hard, gentle, fast, fierce—it was going to happen.
He pushed up, wrapped his arms around Ricky, and flipped him face down on the bed.
“Stop.” Ricky didn’t move or raise his voice. “I’m not going to fight you, but I need you to listen.”
“I’m listening.” Martin gripped his ass and speared three fingers between his hard cheeks. “You can talk while I’m fucking you.”
“Face to face.” Craning his neck, Ricky glared back at him. “I’m going to roll over.”
His spine tensed as his mind spun to understand the position. He knew it could be done, but why?
“Martin.” Ricky shifted to his back and opened his legs. “Come here.”
The heat in Martin’s groin evaporated, and his body chilled with unease.
“You’ve never had sex this way?” Ricky widened his eyes. “Not even with a woman?”
He scoured his mind, digging through old memories—quick fucks, stolen moments, up against a wall, bent over a piece of furniture, doggy in the backseat of a car. Sex had always been a means to an end. A hard, fast release.
“No.” His answer fell on a choked breath.
“My tortured, beautiful man. I couldn’t be more in love with you.” Ricky gripped his hand and pulled him down.
Martin lowered on top of him, chest to chest, cock against cock, and let his weight rest in the cradle of Ricky’s powerful body.
Their lips met in a soft caress. A nibble here. A sip there. He inched back to see the lust in Ricky’s eyes and closed in again, kissing and breathing as one. His hips rocked in a languid motion, swiveling, grinding, and feeding the heat between them.
He stretched his mouth wide, reaching deeper, and Ricky opened for him, angling his head and licking away doubts and reservations. If sex with Ricky was as poignant and passionate as this, Martin wouldn’t be the same afterward.
He’d never felt so wanted, so loved, so damn alive.
His heart sputtered beneath the heavy emotion, and he broke away, panting and clinging to Ricky’s dependable gaze. Then he dove back for more, his tongue moving in a dreamlike state, a higher level of oneness. Every touch lifted them in harmony. Every lick burned him hotter.
By the time they came up for air, he was ravenous.
He sat back on his knees and stared down at their cocks. Engorged and leaking from the tips, they jutted across Ricky’s abs, side by side. They looked so fucking sexy together.
“I need to be inside you.” He grabbed Ricky at the root and stroked. “Right now.”
“Keep your eyes on mine.” Ricky flexed his hips in Martin’s grip and groaned. “No rushing to the end. We’re going to enjoy this.”
Martin gathered spit in his mouth and angled his head over his aching cock. Parting his lips, he let his saliva trickle out and run down his length.
“I’m going to come just from watching you do that.” Ricky shifted restlessly beneath him, clawing at the blankets.
Collecting more spit, Martin lathered his fingers and massaged them against Ricky’s anus.
“This is happening.” Ricky stared up at him in awe. “We’re doing this.”
“I don’t know if slow and easy will be good for you.” He lined himself up with Ricky’s opening. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You’ve been kissing me for a month. I don’t think you realize how incredibly affectionate you are.”
He was?
The sucking of lips, the drugging sweetness of breaths, the whispered words… Ricky and Tula were under his skin, expunging nightmares and replacing them with dreams.
Dreams of a future with the two people he would give anything to keep.
Ricky pulled his knees toward his ribs, opening himself wide. “Eyes on me.”
Falling into that heated gaze, Martin pushed his hips and sank into the nirvana of Ricky’s body.
His breath cut off, and Ricky moaned deep in his throat. They trembled together, adjusting to the overwhelming sensations.
Ricky’s hand flew to his cock, stroking himself. Martin slid out and pressed back in, his eyes rolling back in his head.
“S
even years.” He thrust, digging deep, catching a desperate rhythm. “It was a long fucking time to wait for this. But so worth the wait.”
“Holy fuck, Martin.” Ricky panted, quickening the pump of his hand. “You’re huge. I feel you in my stomach. Fucking feel you everywhere.”
Martin wrapped a fist around Ricky’s grip and quickened the pace of his strokes, sliding their fingers up and down in sync with the frantic drive of his hips.
“Slow down.” Ricky gasped, flexing his glutes and using his legs to meet every thrust.
“I own you.” He grabbed Ricky’s waist and slammed himself deeply, mercilessly, stuffing that ass, making damn sure Ricky felt him. “You’re fucking mine. Every touch, every kiss, every drop of your come belongs to me.”
“I love you.”
Ricky’s quiet words breathed into him, resuscitating him from the darkness. The tempo of his hips faltered, and his blood hummed with life.
The solid body beneath him anchored him to the present, providing dependable, stable footing. Ricky had been here all along. Martin’s compass in the storm.
“No one’s ever said those words to me.” Martin assumed his dad had loved him, but it had never been voiced.
“I’ll never stop saying it.” Ricky grasped his neck and hauled him in for a kiss. “Fucking love you.”
His tongue slid against Ricky’s, curling and flicking with the depth of his feelings. He was infatuated with the taste of Ricky’s mouth, the feel of his magnificent physique moving beneath him, the heat of his skin, and the sexy Latino glow of it.
More than that, he was addicted to Ricky’s devotion, his commitment to their friendship, and the effort he put into it.
He loved everything about this man. Always had. Always would. He’d loved Ricky for seven years.
With an arm between them, he took Ricky in hand, stroking him, grinding into him, desperate to give himself entirely to this.
“I need your come.” He rubbed Ricky harder, savoring the friction of Ricky’s clenching ass as they locked eyes. “Give it to me.”
Ricky’s mouth opened. His pupils dilated, and his cock pulsed in Martin’s hand.
“Martin, oh, fuck. Oh, Jesus, I’m coming!” Ricky ground his hips, bearing down on Martin’s thrusts as he ejaculated ropy strings of come across his chest.
Martin followed him over the edge, hammering erratically while staring into his eyes. “Always loved you. With everything I am.”
The intensity of his climax stole his breath and exploded stars across his vision. He came and came and came until there was nothing left. All of him was in his best friend—his body, his love, and his life.
“Definitely worth the wait.” Ricky rolled them, putting them on their sides, nose to nose, legs entangled, and breaths mingling.
“I don’t deserve you.” He took Ricky’s mouth, their tongues rubbing through a satiated kiss.
“I’ll remind you of that the next time you’re a dick.”
“Don’t I know it.” He kissed Ricky again, devouring the intimacy. “Thank you.”
In the isolation of their prison cell, he sank into Ricky’s embrace in a way he never had before. Hands roamed. Lips touched and held. Cocks brushed. Gazes caressed, and Martin fell. Mind, body, and soul. He gave it all to Ricky, and Ricky gave in return.
In that lazy span of an hour, they had more than they could’ve ever wanted. But they weren’t complete.
“I’m going to get our girl.” He slid out of bed and grabbed his jeans.
“Our girl isn’t going to listen to you.” Ricky joined him, pulling on his own clothes.
“She will.” He shoved on his shoes. “I’m going to explain everything.”
“Everything?”
He turned and looked his best friend in the eye. “We have a decision to make.”
CHAPTER 26
Martin entered Tula’s cell without knocking, his pulse steady, his gait determined, and his eyes set on his goal.
Tula sat on the end of the bed, smoking a cigarette. She glared at him, her face a beautiful shade of fury, before turning away and denying him the view of her eyes.
Martin couldn’t remember the last time she’d smoked. She kept some cartons around to use as currency to buy meals and supplies, but she’d dropped the nicotine habit when she started hanging out with him and Ricky.
Ricky followed him in, shut the door, and leaned against it.
As Martin approached her, he marked her stiff spine, rigid jaw, and the flex of her fingers. She had every right to be pissed at him, and he would let her have her anger as long as she listened to what he had to say.
He knelt on the floor before her. “I’m sorry.”
She took a long drag without looking at him. Then she met his eyes and released the smoke in his face.
In a calm, calculated motion, he gripped her hand and twisted it in an unnatural direction at the wrist. The technique caused her just enough discomfort to release the cigarette from her fingers.
She yanked her hand away. “Why did you—?”
“I can’t be fixed. Not overnight. Maybe not ever.” He squashed out the cigarette beneath his knee. “But Ricky and I just had sex.”
Her glower darted behind him to Ricky. Her eyes softened for a moment then returned to him, reigniting with fire. “You came here to rub that in my face?”
“No.” It probably wasn’t the best thing to lead with after teasing her and rejecting her just hours earlier. But he was laying it all out on the table, and having sex with Ricky was the easiest part to confess.
Now came the hard part.
He dragged a hand over his head and centered himself on the presence behind him. Ricky didn’t know what he was about to say, but Ricky’s strength gave him the resolve to continue.
“His name was Jeff. The man I killed.” Martin inched closer on his knees and rested his hands on the mattress on either side of her. “He raped me every day for over a year, starting when I was fourteen. He was my dad’s brother. My uncle.”
Her posture stooped, and the anger in her expression melted into concern.
A reassuring masculine grip landed on his shoulder and squeezed. Then Ricky sat beside her.
“After the shit I said to you, to you both, I owe you my story. It’s not an excuse for my actions. I should’ve been more open with you, but I…” Dread curled in his stomach. “The one and only time I ever told someone about Jeff, it ended very badly.”
Ricky caught his gaze, studying him intently as if trying to make a connection.
“I’ll tell you about it.” He met her eyes. “If you still want to hear it.”
“I do.” She leaned forward but didn’t touch him.
“My history doesn’t just include Jeff.” He rested a hand on Ricky’s knee, his heart pumping with purpose.
They’d made a decision before leaving their cell, one that changed their mission, and with any luck, it would change hers, too.
They trusted her with their lives and would choose her over all else. No matter what happened, she was their priority.
“We’re vigilantes.” He touched her face and pulled her close to whisper at her ear, “We work to punish and eradicate human sex traffickers. It’s personal for us. The way Ricky and I met, everything we do, the reason we’re here—it’s all entangled with our vigilante group and our alliance with the Restrepo Cartel. We strategically arranged our arrest to come here and gather enough intel to take down Hector La Rocha’s operation.”
“Jesus.” She sucked in a breath. Then her expression tightened with indignation. “That’s where I come in.”
“You were our angle, yes. But not anymore. Now you’re our purpose.”
“Your purpose?” Her face reddened. She glanced at the closed door and lowered her voice to a furious whisper. “You’re aligned with a sworn enemy and working against Hector. He won’t just kill you when he finds out. He’ll have you tortured and make a spectacle of your deaths. This is exactly what he wanted to know about y
ou, and you just handed me a confession.”
Martin absorbed the flux of emotion that crossed her face, fascinated by her thought processes. He wasn’t concerned about her ratting them out. She loved them. She just didn’t know it yet.
Her brows knitted, and her gaze bounced through the room before landing on him. “Why would you trust me with this? You already figured out that he sent me to you to learn your secrets, and you know I tell him everything. You’re not just throwing away your mission. You’re risking your lives by telling me.”
“Yes, we are.”
“We choose you, Tula.” Ricky tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Over the mission. Over everything.”
Her lips parted, and she shook her head. “But you don’t know if I’ll choose you.”
“You already have,” Martin said, hoping to hell he was right.
“How’s that?”
“I told you I wanted the names and locations of high-ranking officers. You had the past several hours to pass that information along to Hector. But you didn’t, did you? You didn’t even consider it.”
“No. I…” She touched her throat, and her gaze turned inward. “I learned something about Hector today, and I’m still trying to process that.”
“What is it?” His pulse sped up. “His human trafficking operation?”
“You first. I want to hear your story. About your uncle.” Her fingers slid over Ricky’s on the bed. “How you and Ricky met. Your vigilante work. All of it.”
“Not here.” Martin stood and offered his hand. “In our cell.”
If he was going to cut himself open and expose his miserable fucking shame, he wanted to do it in a place where he felt more secure. Despite the stink and gloom of Jaulaso, the cell he shared with her and Ricky was where he’d experienced the happiest moments of his life.
Not to mention, their cell had a lock on the door.
“Okay.” She gripped his fingers and followed him into the hall.
When they reached their destination, they kicked off their shoes and climbed into bed together. Tula and Ricky sat with their backs against the wall. Martin stretched out in front of them.
