by BA Tortuga
“Oh, sugar. I’ll never get tired of hearing that.” He just wanted to bust. Instead he kissed Morgan again and again, lips and tongue moving, tingling.
Morgan arched up, undulating against him, sweet and slow, almost like the man was swimming.
Yeah. He could do slow. He could. Max licked at Morgan’s mouth, stroking his chest, his arms, just loving on him. They needed this.
Those hands slid up along his spine, around his neck, just holding on. Morgan was right there, focused on him.
He put one hand under Morgan’s back, lifting him even more into the kiss, rubbing down. The friction made him groan.
Mmm. Morgan liked that. He could hear it in the happy little cries and murmurs, feel it in the heat of the lean body.
They rocked, touching, kissing, starting slow and going faster, both of them humming and moaning.
It felt fucking good, together in his bed, Morgan’s dark hair on his sheets, those eyes shining at him.
Max luxuriated in it. His skin slid against Morgan’s, sweat starting to make them hot and easy, his face and throat getting so flushed. He needed suddenly, harder than he had before.
“Oh. Max. Look at you.” Morgan groaned, arching under him.
“Me?” Chuckling, he looked at Morgan, that pale skin stained with pleasure, those lips swollen with his kisses. “Nah. I’ve got a good view.”
His nipples were caught, twisted sharp enough to make them ache. “Do you now?”
“I do.” Gasping, Max arched, humping good and hard.
“Want you to put your rings in me. After we send him away.”
“Yes. Here.” He bent and licked at Morgan’s nipples, rubbing his stubbly chin on them.
“Yes.” Morgan gasped, or laughed, or some mixture of the two. “Your rings.”
“Can’t wait to lick them, bite them, just go to town.” He’d get Morgan a new chain, maybe one that would have a little extra piece to go to the little stud they’d put in Morgan’s skin, right behind Morgan’s balls.
“God, yes. I want to feel you pulling at them, tugging….” Morgan tossed and twisted, chest heaving. “Cowboy.”
“Uh-huh.” All he could do was thrust, his hips just going and going as he kissed each nipple one more time before heading back to Morgan’s mouth. So pretty, that mouth.
Oh, and there needed to be a stud there, a bit of metal in his slit, fucking him. Oh.
His hips snapped forward at the thought, a harsh cry bursting from his chest, spunk spurting out. They really needed to get those piercings back. Like really.
Morgan hummed low, sucking on his tongue, fingers tracing along his spine.
“God, sugar. The things you do to me.” He nibbled, licking a little, nuzzling up.
“Just trying to keep up.” Morgan chuckled, dark eyes fastened on him.
“You do that real well, sugar. Real well.” Max kept touching, stroking Morgan, petting, fascinated by texture and taste.
“Good.” Morgan moved under his touch, responding to everything, loving him. Damn.
Max took a kiss that curled his toes, his whole body waking up again, which he didn’t know could happen. And Morgan was breathing into his mouth, hands on his shoulders, moans coming hard… yeah.
“I want you.” Morgan’s legs wrapped around his waist, squeezed.
“Got me. Anything you want.” Rocking, he smiled into those pretty eyes, moving slow and easy again.
“Mmm. I want forever, but I’ll take right now.” Morgan arched a little, belly hot as fire against him.
“You got both.” He’d promise this man anything. Fucking anything. He really would. His cock perked right up again, just needing so bad.
Morgan was eager as fuck, wanton, and it was all for him.
“Love you, sugar. So much.” He couldn’t wait this time any more than he had before, couldn’t wait to get inside Morgan, so he just reached between them and started stroking Morgan, loving on him, pulling him right along.
That sweet prick damn near caught his palm afire, sizzling on his skin. He could feel Morgan’s toes curl against the backs of his knees.
“Come on. Come on, Morgan.” Somehow Max needed it, needed to feel Morgan come for him. Needed to know they were together in all this.
“Uh-huh.” Those eyes went wide and hot, that blue streak bright and clear as heat poured from Morgan into his hand.
Max moaned, his own body jerking almost gently as his cock throbbed again, his balls pushing out what they could.
Morgan hummed, quiet and melty, fingers petting his face.
“Yeah.” Carefully lowering himself down, Max curled up with Morgan, hands sliding and slipping.
He liked how they fit together, how Morgan felt in the bed.
He was so keeping Morgan. Let the man’s daddy come. They’d settle it once and for all. Morgan was his, pure and simple.
And Max fought for what was his.
IT WAS all Morgan could do not to pack his bags and run. He knew what Max said, that Max believed they could stand up against his father, but no one did.
Hell, Morgan wasn’t completely sure anyone could.
Not physically. Father was an old man, still strong, but old. Still, no one could resist the threat of losing his livelihood, his reputation, losing a check for half a million dollars to turn around and walk away.
He sorta flitted from here to there, going from room to room, returning to touch Max, stroke the slick, shaved scalp over and over.
“Hey, sugar,” Max said as he wandered in for the fourth time. “C’mere.”
He got a kiss, light and sweet, nothing that might send them back to the bedroom.
“Hey, cowboy.” Max’s cheeks were rough again already, so fucking sexy and male and just….
Fuck, he didn’t want to lose this.
“Mmm. You taste fine, sugar.” Max’s hands moved over him, the restless touches the only indication that Max was worked up too.
“Yeah? As good as in Rio?” His palms flattened against Max’s belly.
“Better.” Max gave him a look, serious as a heart attack. “You’d never’ve been taken from me there.”
Oh. He nodded, hands sliding around Max, holding on tight. “I don’t want it to happen again.”
“Not gonna.” Max winked, then frowned, cocking his head as the phone rang. Max answered, then hung up without a word. “We got company.”
They both knew what that meant.
“Okay. Okay.” He hugged one more time, then moved away, catching sight of himself in the mirror. God, no contacts, no jewelry, nothing to hide behind. He hated this.
Hated it.
They headed out to the big front porch, and Max whistled up the dogs, who came immediately, wagging and panting and just licking his hands. They made him chuckle, romping around like big, hairy idiots.
They distracted him long enough that his father’s voice made him jump. “Morgan! Get away from those beasts and get into the car. I have had quite enough of your shenanigans.”
He stood, lips tight, staring over into hard, angry eyes that didn’t look anything like his own. The dogs went still but sat with a single command from Max.
“Well, hey there, Mr. Bowen. How’re you doing today?” Max asked, easy as anything, just stepping right up and making a big, solid presence.
“I would be doing better if you hadn’t kidnapped my son. His doctor has been extremely worried. The boy needs help, you know.”
“I wasn’t kidnapped. I was rescued.”
“Morgan doesn’t need to be in the hospital, sir.”
He could see the effort Max was making to be civil. You had to admire the guy for his politeness. Really. Even if he was gonna stroke out doing it.
“You don’t have any reason to concern yourself with my son. Honestly. You don’t understand what you’re dealing with.”
How could his father just stand there and say that?
Max advanced, not looking threatening. Just sort of… well, prowly. “I think you’re
the one who doesn’t get him at all.”
“I have known him his entire life.” His father puffed up a little, and it sort of looked… sad.
Weird.
Not really terrifying at all.
“I’m not leaving, Father.”
Max looked from him to his dad, eyes all dark and unhappy and maybe a little sympathetic. To him and his dad, maybe.
“Look. Why don’t we all stop pissing like a bunch of big dogs. You could stay for supper, sir. See how good Morgan’s getting on here.”
Supper? Had Max lost his mind?
“Come on, what will it cost you but a delay in bluster?”
Oh that? That was pure big dog challenge, the kind his father always had trouble resisting.
His father rumbled, brows lowering in a frown. “I’m a busy man, Mr. Underwood. I don’t have time for games.”
“No, I don’t suppose you do. It’d take time to see your kin happy instead of locked away and drugged to the gills. Just no time for that at all. You know, Morrie Carmichael always said you were a decent man, even when I called you a stone bastard. Shame to see he was wrong.” Max went to the door. “If you don’t want to stay for supper, then you’d best leave my house.”
“Morrie understood about business. Something I’ll never hope to have my son comprehend.”
Oh. Okay, that was a little low. More than a little, maybe.
Max shrugged, face going harder by the minute. “Not everyone is set for that. Some folks understand other things. Ones you don’t.”
“Yes. Well. I have it on good authority that he’s an exceedingly talented little whore. However, I have serious doubts I will ever understand his perversions.”
Morgan winced, stepped forward, and took his father’s arm. “Stop it. You just stop, now.”
The minute his father shook him off, growling, Max went from hard to stony, coming to pull him away. “You go on now. You can see for yourself that Morgan is just fine.”
“He’s insane and dangerous and returning to the hospital.”
“I’m not insane. I’m not you. I’m not a businessman. I’m not straight, but I’m not insane.” He was getting a little loud, though, perhaps a little strident.
Max’s fingers skated down his arm, calming him a little just by being there. “As far as I’m concerned,” Max said, “Morgan is an adult who makes his own decisions. He ain’t gonna do anything to bother you. You don’t need to worry on it.”
His father’s eyes stared through him, burning with fury. “Get in the car, Morgan. You aren’t a teenager anymore, and you don’t know how to live without money. Do you honestly think anyone will want a wrinkled, broke queer with no talent for any length of time?”
A low growl came from Max, who stepped forward, hands balled into fists.
Morgan just sort of stood there, blinking, thinking. Trying to figure out what the fuck he’d done. Why this was all happening again.
“Get. Out.” Max said it hard, voice sounding like the man’d been chewing gravel.
“Happy to, but I’m taking my son.”
“No. I’m not leaving.” He wouldn’t.
“Quit being a child, Morgan. You’re wasting my time.”
“He’s not going anywhere.” Max moved even as Morgan’s father did, sort of lunging in between them as his father reached, popping his father right on the chin, the old man staggering back.
Oh. Oh, goodness. “That was louder than I thought it would be….”
Max just hit his father.
Honest to goodness.
Max didn’t look surprised or even concerned. Just… righteous.
“I’ll… you piece of shit. I’ll call the police.”
Morgan tilted his head, looked at his father. “You’ll lose a lot of face, getting beaten up by your crazy son’s partner….”
“Not to mention the police around here are related to me,” Max agreed, looking a little smug now. It was cute.
Better than cute. “I’m not going with you. I belong here.”
With Max.
“This is Morgan’s home now, mister. And you’re not welcome.” Solid as a rock, his Max.
“You’re a fool. If you’d kept your temper, I would’ve written you a check for your trouble.”
Max scoffed. “I had enough to get by. But Morrie chose me as his heir, in case you didn’t know. I don’t need your money, old man, and Morgan doesn’t need you at all.”
Morgan nodded, pointing to the steps that led down to the fancy rental car. “Go on, Father. I’m staying.”
His father opened his mouth to argue, and Max growled. “You heard him. Get.”
Morgan nodded, holding his father’s gaze. “Leave me alone, Father. I don’t need you. Leave me alone.”
“This isn’t over,” his father said, but about that time, Poe and Alan appeared just beyond the door, looming a little, and his father shook his head, back ramrod straight as he walked out.
He was good. He didn’t start shaking until Father got into the long black car, didn’t head for a bathroom until the engine started up. He did it. He stood up.
Max had helped, but in the end, Max had only been support. He’d stood up to his father. When he was done puking, Max was right there, stroking his hair back.
“Hey, sugar. You okay?”
“Yeah. Sorry. I… I’m sorry.” Macho and tough, he wasn’t. Hell, he was still going for sane.
“Why? You did real well, sugar. Real well.” Max was macho. Max had hit his father. Hit him.
“Yeah.” God, he needed to go to town, clean out his bank accounts—the hidden ones and the public ones—before anyone else did. “Can I borrow your truck?”
“What for?” Max didn’t sound worried. Well, not like “you’re going to leave me” worried.
“I need to go to the bank. I need to clean out my accounts.” He wouldn’t just live off Max. It wasn’t fair. He owned four houses too, that Father didn’t know about.
“Okay. We’ll put the money someplace safe. Come on, sugar.”
So good to him. Solid as a rock, his Max.
He nodded, hand sliding around Max’s wrist. “Okay. Okay, cowboy. Let’s go.”
“Yeah. We’ll get it done. We will.” Max grinned, kissing his forehead. “That was the worst of it.”
“Promise?” He reached up, traced Max’s lips, Max’s smile.
“I do. The rest is just the lawyers, and they won’t have a leg to stand on. Now brush your teeth, and I’ll get the truck.”
“Lawyers? Why do I need a lawyer? The insanity stuff?”
“No, honey. Your daddy will send lawyers.” Max seemed almost like he was looking forward to it. “But my lawyers? Man, they’re British. They’re scary as all fuck.”
That tickled him, way down deep, and he started laughing, tension easing in his shoulders, in his belly.
“There you go, sugar,” Max said, hugging him tight. “There you go.”
Morgan nodded, took a deep, deep breath. Yeah. Yeah.
There he was.
Right here.
Just fine.
THEY’D TAKEN care of the bank shit over a period of about a week. The lawyers had done real well. Max was pleased.
Morgan seemed to relax a little too, after his money was safe. He’d twitched for a couple of days after his daddy left, starting at every sound, looking around with haunted eyes. Max couldn’t blame him. What kind of man treated his kid that way?
One way or the other, Max figured they were good to go. Hell, Poe had left the night before, giving Max a kiss that curled his toes and patting Morgan’s bottom, saying he had other fish to fry and a tremendous need to get laid after being around them for near on a month.
If Poe left, they must be safe.
Max figured it was about time, so he went looking for Morgan, calling Alan up on his little radio to tell him they were driving into the city.
Morgan was with the dogs on the back porch, sitting and reading the newspaper, throwing one ball after
another.
Damn, but Morgan looked good in his house. Max was already thinking of it as theirs. He’d even cleaned out the second guest room and given it to Morgan to do whatever with. The look on Morgan’s face had been priceless.
“Hey, sugar.”
He got a grin, the tip of Morgan’s nose smeared with newsprint. “Hey, cowboy. I was looking for houses.”
“Houses?”
His heart stuttered a little. “Why?”
“Investments. You know, I have enough to buy ten little wee houses, rent them.” Those eyes blinked up at him. “I’m not quite as helpless as father liked to think. I hadn’t touched my trust fund in ten years.”
“I…. You…. Wow.” He didn’t think Morgan was helpless, but damn. “Cool. Can you put off your moguling for the weekend?”
Morgan laughed, folded the paper, and pushed into his arms. “Oh yeah. Morgan the Mogul. It’s got a ring.”
“It does.” Mmm. Rings. That was the whole point. “I want to go to the city, sugar. Wanna come with?”
“Always. Let’s go explore. I need to buy contacts, you know? I never go out in public with my eyeballs naked.”
“Naked eyeballs. That sounds gross, sugar.” Max kissed Morgan’s neck, rubbing his scratchy chin against one shoulder. “As long as you don’t wear them at home.”
“No. No, I….” Morgan grinned. “That was when I knew I needed to keep you. When you liked my eyes.”
“Never seen such pretty eyes.” He hadn’t either. They’d hit him in the gut like a sucker punch. “Anyway, I got us a fancy hotel, one of those with the suite on top? We can have room service and all.”
“Oh, very fun. I’ll have to order finger foods and let you use me as a platter.” Look at those eyes twinkle, alive and awake and interested.
“Oh. Man, I saw this thing once in Japan. Human sushi plate.” It had been odd, but cool. He’d like that. Maybe not just for sushi, because he could think of all sorts of things he’d like better spread on a Morgan.
“Oh yes. Olives and little nibbles, your mouth on me. What’s not to love?”
“Uh-huh. So, wash your face and pack a bag, okay? I have plans for you.” And they had an appointment late tonight that they couldn’t miss.
