The Innocence Series: Complete Bundle

by Riley Knight

  But, as Sam’s mouth was plundered, as Gunner dragged him off toward his car and pushed him into the driver’s seat, he had to admit that it was a damned effective distraction.

  SIXTEEN

  “He’s out, and he’s looking for you.”

  Those were the first words that Joey spoke to him. Joey, an old friend of his, who had been through a lot of the same things that Gunner had. Joey, who could be trusted, if anyone could.

  “Does he know where I am?” Gunner replied, and the answer made him feel like he had had a pitcher full of ice water dumped right over his head, icy tendrils extending down his spine.

  “He knows you’re in Texas. He followed you that far. Don’t tell me where you are, man. If he comes to talk to me, I don’t want to know anything.”

  And that was the gist of the conversation. His angry ex-boyfriend was after him, and all of the safety that Gunner had been counting on went up in smoke, just like that. The safety not only for himself but for Sam and his family.

  For Ruby, who was just a child. For anyone who would have their lives ruined, just because Gunner had touched it. He really did just break everything he ever touched, didn’t he?

  There wasn’t much point in talking past that point. Gunner let the call end, and then the strength seemed to flow right out of his legs and into the floor as he fell down onto it. His eyes squeezed closed, and though he hated himself for it, he at least took comfort from the fact that no one was there to see his weakness.

  At that moment, he lost everything. All because of a relationship that had been over for years, and it made all of his hopes and dreams go up into smoke. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.

  Of course, he had done quite enough all on his own to destroy everything he was building here. He knew that Sam thought that he didn’t care, but he did. Mike was the first person who had given him a chance, and Gunner had repaid him by ruining his pride and joy.

  With a groan, Gunner rubbed at his eyes, which were stinging painfully, prickling with moisture. He was just tired—he tried to assure himself. It had been a long night, and he really needed to pick himself up off of the ground and walk into the other room to face the music.

  Sam. God, how was he going to deal with Sam? Someday soon, Gunner was going to have to leave town—he knew that. He couldn’t hide from his problems, so he was going to have to keep running. Until he got to Austin, and then …

  And then there would be the same problems as ever. And then, he would work for Joey’s buddy in his bar as long as he could stand, save up some dough, and take off. That had always been the plan, right?

  Only he’d asked to stay, and Sam had said that he wanted him to. And there were thousands of small towns in Texas, and Gunner knew that his ex would go to the big cities, first. Gunner was like a needle in a haystack, right?

  It was possible that it wasn’t as hopeless as it seemed. Assuming, of course, that Sam still wanted anything to do with him. Still, the thought was enough to have him rising to his feet, straightening out his clothing and setting his shoulders, and before he could think about it too much, he was in the other room and heading toward Sam.

  “Who was that on the phone?” Sam asked, and Gunner felt like his stomach had been clenched by a steely cold hand, freezing him right in the very core of his being.

  That was not a question that he could answer. Not if he wanted to have any chance at all of keeping this thing with Sam going, and as it turned out, he found that he did. All he had to do to lose everything was to tell Sam the complete, full truth. Sam would walk away in a second if he did that.

  “No one important,” Gunner said, keeping his tone as offhanded as he could. It was no big deal—he tried to convince himself. Just an old friend, giving him some information that he needed. If he believed it, then maybe he could make Sam believe it, too.

  “Gunner…” Sam started, and Gunner frowned a little bit. He didn’t like the sound of that. It was deeply ominous, the way that Sam said his name, and he was abruptly reminded that Sam was, for all of his selfishness and his immaturity, very astute and intelligent and it was damned inconvenient sometimes how perceptive he was.

  So he did the only thing he could think of to do. The only thing that he thought might distract Sam, as young and inexperienced as he was. He kissed Sam, letting all of his worry, his fear, his anger, and, yes, all of his very real desire for Sam into that kiss, letting it be rough and forceful like he could kiss away every doubt that they both had.

  It was like every time they were together, it was a little bit different. Or a lot different. This kiss was the complete opposite of how their kisses had been just a few hours ago in Mike’s Jag when Sam had given himself to Gunner.

  There was still heat, and passion, and there always had been, even when they’d both been trying to deny that they even wanted each other. There probably always would be. The sexual desire, the sheer chemistry, between them was undeniable.

  As Gunner dragged Sam off to the car, he saw how willing Sam was and observed how all of the questions had apparently completely left Sam’s mind, and he sort of wished, just for a split second, that things were different. That he could tell Sam the whole story, everything that had happened to him, and that he wouldn’t have to be making these getaway plans secretly, just in case.

  But if Sam ever found out the whole truth, anything between them would be over. Maybe that would be for the best, for everyone concerned, but Gunner found that he was stubbornly, selfishly unwilling to give this up.

  As Sam drove him home, back to Gunner’s bed, Gunner watched the younger man and tried to come to grips with the thought that he could just never see him again. Tried, and utterly failed. Even though they had known each other such a short time, Sam had somehow managed to do what no one else had done, not for years. Maybe never.

  Without even apparently trying, Sam had wormed his way right into Gunner’s heart. All of the walls that he had carefully built up ever since he’d finally broken free of his ex, ever since he’d let go of his family, they were all tumbling down and Sam had hardly done so much as to brush against them.

  It was almost funny, in a terrible way. Someone that Gunner didn’t care about as much, he could have told everything, because he wouldn’t have so much to lose by doing it. But it was sort of ironic that a person that Gunner didn’t care about as much as he cared about Sam, he never would have been tempted to tell anything to.

  Sam already knew more about Gunner than he wanted. But he kept pushing, he kept wanting more, and Gunner couldn’t give it to him.

  So, once they were out of the car, Gunner devoted himself as fully as he could to pushing that right out of the other man’s mind. Their kisses burned in the cool night as Gunner tugged Sam toward the converted barn that was his home.

  Or should he say that had been his home, for a little while? But he shouldn’t get too attached.

  For the moment, it was a place where he could take Sam and molest his gorgeous body. Gunner wrapped his arms around Sam and tugged him through the door, already busily stripping off the younger man’s clothing. The trick was to keep them both busy, so no more talking could happen.

  And it was working, too. Sam was so wonderfully responsive to him, and the moment they got to the bed—both of them naked now—Sam was pushing Gunner down onto it, much stronger than he looked with all of that lean muscle.

  Gunner let himself fall, let the bed embrace him as he landed gently on its soft, cushiony surface. Sam’s hands found his hips and wrapped around them, tugging him insistently to the side of the bed, so that his ass was just barely on it and his legs were hanging over.

  Between Gunner’s legs, Sam fell to his knees, and Gunner felt a hot mouth engulf him. He groaned and reached down, his fingers sliding into soft strands of hair which gleamed golden even in the low light. He tugged gently, enjoying the sounds that Sam made as he slid his lips all the way down the length of Gunner’s cock, right to the very base of it.

  “God, baby,”
Gunner moaned. This had all started off as a distraction technique, but it had worked too well, maybe. It was distracting the hell out of not only Sam but also Gunner, who rocked up into the embrace of that heated, slick, wet mouth, sliding between tight, talented lips.

  It was exquisite. Like sliding into heaven. Gunner looked down at Sam, meeting those bright green eyes, feeling the way that Sam’s strong, big hand cupped his balls, rolling the sensitive skin gently as Sam worked on Gunner’s cock.

  There was never any chance of it taking very long for Gunner to come. Not when he had such a beautiful young man servicing him, and a man that Gunner hadn’t been able to resist from almost the first moment that he’d met him. But when he saw a quick, furtive movement when he looked down between his own legs, when he saw the swollen length of Sam’s dick as he stroked himself, it became not just inevitable but also urgent.

  “Fuck! Sammy, touch yourself for me,” Gunner groaned, fighting off the waves of pleasure, the undertow that threatened to suck him right under and into an ocean of bliss. “Make yourself come.”

  Sam shuddered, and without being told with words, Gunner knew that Sam was finding this just as unbearably hot as Gunner was. Sam touching himself and jerking off while having his lips wrapped around Gunner’s cock, it was one of the hottest things that had ever happened to Gunner.

  There was this sense of urgency to it, too, though maybe only Gunner felt that. Like this might be one of the last times that they were together. Like the expiration date on this crazy interlude between them was coming up fast.

  When Gunner locked his eyes on Sam’s, it seemed like somehow they might be able to push through with this. If they both tried, maybe they could make this into something real, something that lasted. How that would happen, Gunner didn’t know, but even though it seemed hopeless, he couldn’t help but have some hope regardless.

  Somehow, Gunner managed to hold off until Sam’s body stiffened up, and the hot, sharp, sweet smell of fresh cum filled the air and Sam choked himself on Gunner’s cock while pleasure wracked his body.

  Sam coming was all that Gunner had been waiting for, and he let out a soft whimper of his own, a sound that he would have been ashamed of himself for if he hadn’t been so busy with the sensations racing through his blood. Sam’s brilliant, jewel-green eyes filled his entire field of vision, still fogged with his own pleasure, and Gunner never looked away even as he came.

  Neither of them spoke, then. Gunner didn’t know about Sam, but for himself, he was nervous about what he would even say. I love you. I’m sorry. I want to stay, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to.

  He couldn’t say any of that, because it would lead to questions. Questions that he wasn’t at all equipped to deal with. So, instead of speaking, he tugged Sam up off of the floor, wrapped him securely in his arms, and clung to him like he could somehow keep everything from going as badly as he was too terribly afraid that it was.

  Don’t let go of me.

  He wanted to say those five words, wanted to more than anything, but what right did he have to demand something like that? Especially when he was fairly certain he was going to have to be the one doing the letting go?

  SEVENTEEN

  Sam stared down at the brightly glowing screen of the laptop, the dark words marring the cheerful white page of the email that he was writing. It was an email he had intended to write for months now, an email that he had been terrified of sending because he feared the rejection that he thought was inevitable.

  Before, he had been scared because he was positive that he was going to have to give up on all of his dreams, and that the request to come back to Harvard would be denied. So he’d planned on it like he already had permission, but in truth, he didn’t even know if he could.

  Now things were a little bit different, and Sam wasn’t sure that he was ready to send this email for entirely different reasons. Did he want to leave Texas after all? He had always been so sure that the answer was yes, but now things had changed.

  Sam’s fingers hovered over the mousepad, right on the very brink of sending the email, which was a very politely worded few paragraphs to one of the admissions officers. Did he want to do this? Deep, deep down, did he?

  Undergrad degree. Law school. Working hard until he became a partner. That was his path or had been before he’d flunked out. This could be his second chance, but the problem was simple.

  Gunner was here, and Sam couldn’t be sure that whatever they had could survive if Sam went off to college again. On the other hand, ever since that night a week ago when Gunner had talked Mike into letting him drive his Jaguar, and Sam into going along with it, Gunner had been withdrawing.

  Or had Sam been the one to pull away? Once more, he read the lines of type and closed his eyes. He wasn’t running away. He wasn’t. He was just doing what he needed to do, what he’d planned to do, long before he’d ever known that there was a man who could make him feel all of these things at all.

  It was his future. That was all there was to it. Rubbing his fingers into his temples until it almost hurt, Sam fought with himself. Fought to know what the right thing to do was, the right thing for himself and the right thing for Gunner.

  “Hey.”

  Speak of the devil, or, in this case, think of him. Sam glanced up, nervously shutting his laptop, the unsent email still on the screen. But his face must have shown his guilt or something, because Gunner wandered over and, before Sam could hide it, flipped open the computer to peer at the screen.

  “What are you hiding there?”

  Panic gripped him, making his chest feel so tight that he was sure he couldn’t force air through it at all. Sam grabbed his computer, shut it, and held it firmly to his chest, hoping against hope that Gunner hadn’t seen anything. That Sam had acted in time, but Gunner wasn’t stupid, or unobservant.

  “So you’re doing it. You’re really going back to school,” he said, and there was a vague accusation in his eyes. But Sam was also pretty sure that he saw some relief there, too.

  “I never said that I wouldn’t …” Sam heard the thinness of his own voice, and stood up, trying to use his extra inches of height to tower over Gunner. To give him some authority, though the accusation that he saw in Gunner’s face fit just a little bit too well against his own guilt, some sort of twisted jigsaw puzzle.

  “Yeah. You asked me to stay, but you’re gonna take off and go to school halfway across the country. No big deal.” Gunner glared at him, then spun to yank open the fridge door, like he might pull it right off. But he didn’t, he simply glared inside, not reaching to take anything out.

  He was angry. For the first time, Sam was seeing Gunner well and truly angry, and it was a little bit terrifying.

  “I didn’t send the email yet, but yeah. It’s my future.” Sam kept on repeating that, those three words. It’s my future. They were starting to have almost no meaning to him at all, but he grimly clung onto them, a man drowning in an ocean of uncertainty. What else was there, if not his future?

  “Yeah, I get it.” From the tense set of Gunner’s shoulder and back, the hard, uncompromising tenseness of the muscles, Gunner wasn’t all that happy about it, though. Sam bit his lower lip and tried to figure out just what he could say to try to explain.

  But how could he explain when he couldn’t even figure out himself what he wanted? He was poised to jump, but he didn’t know which way he was going to go yet.

  Sam set his computer down on the table once more, his hands gripping onto the edge of it as if he could somehow hold on to something. Retain some sort of certainty. Slowly, he slid the computer open, then looked at the email, which still sat there, the send button seeming to mock him.

  He couldn’t do it. No matter how weird things were with him and Gunner, he couldn’t abandon what they had. Not until he knew that there was no hope. He wasn’t quite there, and his fingers touched the button which would delete the whole email, scrap it entirely.

  “Gunner,” Sam started, and then there was a
knock on the door.

  Not just any knock on the door, either. There was something about it, something brusque and rushed and officious, like the person on the other side was in a hurry and not particularly interested in waiting.

  The sound of it pulled Sam away from his computer. Leaving it on the table, Sam went to pull the door open and then froze right in his tracks.

  Two men in black suits stood on the other side of the door. They had to be sweltering in the summer heat, but if so, you wouldn’t know it to look at them. They both looked cool and calm and controlled, their shirts gleaming white, ties and suits as black as night.

  “FBI,” one of them, the taller one, said, and they both showed their badges. “We’re looking for Gunner Smith.”

  Gunner? Why? Sam swallowed and then turned to look over his shoulder. Gunner was there, looking a little bit pale even under his golden tan, but he walked over to stand beside Sam.

  “That’s me,” Gunner admitted, and Sam looked back at the FBI agents, both of whom were looking at Gunner like he was a particularly juicy steak and they were starving to death.

  “Gunner, what the hell …?” Sam started, and Gunner sighed and shook his head.

  “Look, I guess you’d better come in, but I don’t know what you think I did. I’ve been behaving myself ever since I got out. I’m not sure why you’re after me.”

  His words weren’t exactly comforting for Sam, who stared at him like he’d grown a whole other head. The way that Gunner was talking, it almost sounded like he had had some sort of run-in with the cops before.

  In fact, it sounded a lot like that. It was hard to think of what else it could even be.

  “Then all we need to know from you is where you were two night ago,” the taller agent, who seemed to be the one who spoke more, said those words, and as the four of them walked into the living room, Sam was just grateful that Ruby was off at her friend’s house again. He really wouldn’t want to try to explain this to her.