by BA Tortuga
Those dark eyes flicked from MJ to Woody’s still form and back again, looking lost.
“We need to go. Get your shit and get in your car.” Then he’d finish shit in here.
“Okay. Okay, yeah. I need to. I’ll check the car good, make sure he didn’t fuck with it.” Slowly, carefully, Sonny got to his feet, moved to gather things up, muttering about something that sounded like “fucker” and “money.” Sonny left, though, without a backward glance, carrying a couple of bags and a large metal case.
MJ looked around. Sweet cabin. Nice dry walls. It would burn beautifully. Too bad he had the forest to think about. He shook Woody’s shoulder, banging the man’s head against the floor a little. “He’s mine. You hear me, you backstabbing fucker? I don’t share.”
“I… huh? Wha’?” Woody looked up at him. The guy had blue eyes. Hell, MJ could even see why Sonny had slept with him. Really. Kinda. Okay, not so much.
“Sonny? Where’s Sonny?” Woody asked, eyes rolling wildly.
“Going with me. Where he belongs.” A single bullet and he’d never have to worry about this idiot again.
“You fucker. Fucking hate you….” Woody started struggling, started fighting him, just about the time he heard the roar of a smooth, heavy engine outside.
He cocked the pistol, smiled down, and pressed the barrel against Woody’s forehead. “Ask me if I care.”
“No. MJ. Precious…. Don’t.” Sonny was clinging to the doorjamb, blinking at him. “I got the money. My car is clean. He’s not smart enough to find us without me calling him every fucking day and telling him every fucking thing….” Sonny trailed off. “Please.”
He looked into Woody’s eyes, staring until there was real fear there. “You’re alive because of him. I ever, ever see you again, and you’ll beg me to kill you.”
“Come on, MJ. Come on. We need to get going.” Sonny came around, put a hand on his shoulder. “We truss him up tight, leave him here.”
“Okay. Tie him up. It’s time to hit the road.” He fucking hated this state.
Sonny made quick work of tying Woody up, making it nice and tight, wrists and ankles. It made MJ feel a little better, knowing Sonny wasn’t gonna go easy on the guy. Okay, it was immature, but there it was. Sonny finally nodded, stood up. “Come on. Come on, MJ. Time to go.”
Sonny didn’t spare a word for his ex-partner. Not one.
“Right here.” He followed on Sonny’s heel, taking a minute to unload his gun into the radiator and tires of the car they’d come in. No reason to make anything easy.
“He must have come in the Starfire,” Sonny said, sliding into the driver’s seat. “There’s no sign of his jeep. You got everything you need out of the other car?”
“I will in five.” He bent over in the car to grab his stuff, closing his eyes a second as the world spun wildly.
“Babe, come on. Come on.” He could hear Sonny, kinda like he was underwater, could feel Sonny’s hands on him after a few seconds, turning him toward the car, helping him settle. “It’s okay. It’s okay now. I’ll get us out of here.”
“Yeah. It’s cool. I’m cool. Can you drive?” Please let Sonny be able to drive, or they’d be walking to the fucking coast.
“I can. I’ll get us…. We’ll get to a place I know. Clean up. A place even…. Well. No one else knows.”
Sonny must have more bolt-holes than the president. Or the pope.
“’Kay.” He didn’t nod, because that would be worse than fucking-eyeless-boys bad. He just got his ass in the car. “Your car?”
“Uh-huh. Mine.” The engine had been idling, now it roared, the world spinning sickly as Sonny spun out, heading back down that twisty little road they’d come up.
MJ closed his eyes, leaned his head back. Man.
Man.
They so needed a vacation.
SONNY PULLED into the little parking area under the tiny house on stilts, killed the engine, and sat. Staring a minute.
MJ had fallen asleep somewhere in north Georgia. Bone-tired but determined, Sonny had just kept on driving until he reached Alabama. Until he got them home. Not even Woody knew about this place. It was where Sonny’s daddy used to keep his mistress. Maybe now they could sleep.
He reached over and stroked MJ’s arm gently. “Precious. Wake up. Come on.”
MJ’s eyes popped open, the eye on the side where the bullet grazed just bloodshot as hell. “Oh. Shit. I was asleep. Sorry, man.”
“S’okay, man. I… I just drove.” His other hand sorta refused to let go of the steering wheel. “We’re here.”
“Okay.” MJ watched him, stared at him, then reached out and touched his lips. “We’re okay.”
“Yep. We are. It’s all good.” Yessir. He was just fine.
MJ leaned back against the car seat, still and quiet, just breathing.
“There’s a bed up there.” Somehow or another, Sonny felt like it would be some kind of victory if they could just make it up the stairs.
“Okay. Yeah. Is there water?”
“Should be. I keep everything paid up here. You know?” They could clean up. Get clean clothes. MJ would have to roll the cuffs up. “Even a little stackable washer and dryer.”
“Okay.” MJ opened the car door, stood. The man looked like an extra from a fucking horror movie in the light. It was deeply screwed-up. “What do you need from the car?”
“Just. Just the metal case. That’s the money.” He didn’t want to leave that in the car. Sonny took his seat belt off, swayed to his feet outside the car. His knees held. Barely. “You?”
“Just the pistols and ammo.” There was a hard line in MJ’s jaw, that economy of motion that showed tension, worry. He could so, so relate. Moving stiffly like an old man, he got the .45, got MJ’s bag. He stopped at the back post of the carport to get the key out from a loose piece of shingle.
MJ watched, stood behind him, and waited until he got the door open. The place was dusty and still, but it worked. It worked.
As soon as they both got in, he bolted the door and dropped everything but the gun, then went from the tiny front room to check the kitchenette, the bathroom, and the single bedroom. Empty. Thank God.
Sonny sighed, leaning against the wall in the bedroom.
“You need to sleep.” MJ looked at him, eyes narrowed. “You want a Valium? It’ll help.”
“No. No.” A laugh burst out, sorta hysterical sounding. “No more drugs, okay? I need to get clean. So do you. If I remember right, the hot water heater is good.”
“Okay.” MJ held his hands up, backed off. “You go first, and I’ll keep watch. That way you can sleep while I fix my head.”
Sonny gave MJ a good once-over, trying to figure out what he should do. Was he gonna get his ass kicked if he… if he went and touched? God knew that was what he wanted. Something solid. Just to know MJ was still there, because he sure seemed mostly gone.
Sighing, he moved, peeling his shirt off, wincing as dried blood pulled at hair. “Sure. Okay. I’ll go first.”
“Okay.” MJ stood at the window, eyes never leaving him. “If you need me, holler.”
Staggering a little, Sonny grabbed the doorframe to the bathroom. “Aaaa?”
He saw it in those eyes before MJ’s lips twitched—the need, the laughter, just bringing that blue to life in a second. Then MJ was moving, storming across the floor like a squad of fucking Marines, pushing right against him.
Oh. Oh fuck, yes. Sonny grabbed MJ so hard he heard things creak, leaning to take a kiss, their mouths meeting with a smack. Fuck. Oh goddamn.
MJ didn’t give him a second to think, the kiss sharp-toothed and fierce. MJ started tearing at his clothes, hands burrowing in to touch him, feel his skin. They slid right to the floor, Sonny ripping at MJ’s shirt and jeans, trying to climb right into him. He needed this. Needed the feel of those smooth muscles, the feel of MJ’s skin, the floppy, too-long hair on his cheek. Sonny soaked it all in, opening up to let MJ in.
“Mine. Mine,
you hear me? I won’t let him fucking hurt you.” The words were growled against his lips, those eyes serious as a heart attack.
That made him nod frantically, his hands clutching at MJ’s back, pulling him even closer. “Yours. I promise. I never… he and I. You know that, right? It was over.”
MJ blinked, ferocity easing, fingers cupping his cheek. “I know who you chose.”
“Good.” Okay. They’d be okay. Laughing, Sonny rolled MJ to his back, straddling him, rubbing on him. “Lord, I’m fucking a zombie. You look half dead, Precious.”
“It’s gonna start bleeding again when I wash it. I’m gonna have a scar.” Those eyes danced, the bloodshot one on the close side of creepy. “You still gonna love me?”
“Hell yes, Precious. I’d love you blind and bald.” And it didn’t even scare him to say it. “You know that. That I love you. Right?”
“I guessed, yeah.” MJ touched his lips. “We’re going to get rested and clean, and then we’re going to go get us a fucking boat and supplies and get the fuck off dry land, and God damn it, we’re going to stop bleeding and make love for a couple years.”
“Sounds like a plan.” The best plan he’d heard in a long time. Sonny laughed, kissed MJ’s fingers, and then leaned to kiss his mouth. “Looks like I’m out of the ridge-running business, Precious. You’d best love me enough to keep me busy.”
He held his breath a little, feeling like the worst kind of girl.
MJ stared into him, all business, all serious. “I’ll keep you, loved and busy. The rest of the world can go fuck themselves. We’re retired.”
Sonny just nodded, pressing down against MJ’s body, rocking against him, loving on him.
They’d get that boat. Fucking sail around the world if they wanted to. And stay retired. At least until one of them got a wild hair up their ass.
He could live with that, no problem.
Chapter Eighteen
THE WIND felt good, a hint of a squall on it, salty and fresh where it mingled with the beef Sonny was cooking. MJ chuckled, turned over to catch the last few rays on his naked ass.
Not bad. Not bad at all.
“You want it medium or medium rare, Precious?” That drawl hadn’t faded one bit. Hell, it probably never would. His Sonny was a redneck through and through.
“Medium rare.” He lifted his head, stretched. “Smells like there’ll be weather tonight.”
They could fuck while the boat swayed.
“Uh-huh. A little ozone.” Sonny grinned over, the dying sun looking fine where it painted stripes on those broad shoulders and flat belly. The smoke rising off their grill made Sonny look like he was standing in a waterfall or something.
Cool.
Sonny’s eyes were on him, so he arched a bit, giving Sonny a little show, a bump and grind.
“Gonna make me burn the meat, MJ.”
God, he liked the sound of Sonny’s laughter, the way the man squirted him with the water bottle he always kept by the grill.
“I wouldn’t want that. We’d have to feed it to the sharks.” He scooted away from the next squirt of water, dug in the cooler for a couple of beers.
“Well, you know, a good grilled steak does have to rest. For at least five to ten minutes.” Sonny took the steaks off the grill and covered them with foil, then closed the lid on the potatoes and weird bananas still inside before coming to plop down beside him and grab one beer. “What could we do in that time, do you think?”
“Five to ten minutes….” He made sure his balls were out of reach and then went for it. “Depends if it’s you or me, Sunshine….”
That got him a beer spray, Sonny shaking the bottle and letting him have it with the foam, laughing like a loon. “You little fuck. I’ll show you what I can do.”
“Promises, promises. Quit talking and start proving.” He leaned over, got his lips around one nipple, sucked good and hard.
Sonny moaned, hands sliding over his shoulders, shockingly hot where the beer had been cold. They rolled a little, Sonny pulling him on top, cupping his ass, that cock already hard against his belly.
He let his hips roll, prick rubbing against Sonny’s thigh, heat against heat.
“I tell you what, MJ, I think we have time to do more than rub. Where’s the lube?”
Hell yes. Where had they stashed it?
He hoped it wasn’t at the bottom of the cooler again. That had been… uncomfortable.
Sonny flailed, hand reaching out to open the compartment on the side of the bench, and came up with a bottle and a happy grunt. “You gonna ride me or do me?”
“Cockhound.” He winked, nipped Sonny’s bottom lip. “I’ll ride.”
Those eyes went wide, Sonny’s answering grin going feral. “Oh hot damn. I love that.” The lube smacked into his hand. “You need to get yourself ready, then, Precious.”
“Pushy, pushy.” He leaned down, started nibbling and nipping, slicking his fingers. He slid his hand down between them, wetting his hole, teasing Sonny by not letting his Sunshine see.
“No fair!” One of Sonny’s hands slid behind him, touching his fingers, pushing at them. God, the feel of it as one of Sonny’s slid in alongside one of his….
He arched, lips parting. Oh. Oh yeah. “More.”
“Like this?” That finger pushed deep, moving his with it, Sonny pushing him and pushing him, that long body rolling under his, to vibrate.
“Yes….” He nodded, lips on Sonny’s throat, cock leaking and balls just aching.
“Good. Hot. Can’t fucking wait to be in you.” One more finger slid in, making the total come to three, stretching him almost unbearably.
“Oh. Oh fuck. Want.” He lifted himself up, his own fingers sliding away as he started moving, riding that touch.
“Gonna have me, MJ. Soon. Need you to… fuck. Slick me up, babe.” Sonny stared up at him, eyes glazed.
“Uh-huh.” He managed to get more lube, then get his fingers wrapped around that heavy cock, stroking Sonny in time with the fingers inside him.
It jumped for him, throbbing hard, Sonny moaning and arching under him. The fingers inside him crooked, twisting, finding and pegging his gland.
“Sonny!” He twisted, eyes going wide as his hips rolled, needing more. Now.
“God, MJ.” Sonny watched him carefully, touching that place inside him over and over. “Pretty. God, look at you.”
That would require mirrors. Or eyes on stalks. Or…. Oh…. “Fuck me. Now.”
“Gonna.” Pulling free, Sonny lifted him, put that slick cock right at his hole, and started pushing. Heavy, hard and thick, Sonny opened him right up. Gravity did the rest.
Oh. Oh, that was what he needed. He just leaned into it, Sonny’s cock pushing a deep, happy moan out of him. The boat moved under them, helping to pick up their rhythm.
The wind kicked up too. Damn. He could smell the rain on the air, feel the crackle on his arms. Sonny surged up into him, grunting, chest heaving with his breath.
“It’s good. Fuck, Sonny. It’s so good.” His fingers were splayed against Sonny’s chest, the fingers of his left hand covering a bite mark he’d left the night before.
“Hell yes. Good. God.” Sonny’s hands clamped on his hips hard enough to bruise, hard enough to leave marks. Those hands just slammed him down on Sonny’s cock, up and down.
If his fucking brain could remember how to make his hand move, he’d stroke himself off. Too bad he couldn’t, or maybe not, because Sonny shifted and slid that cock deep and….
His head snapped back, balls drawing up hard as stones.
“Fuck!” He must have tightened up, because Sonny shot so hard inside him he figured he’d feel it for weeks, curling up to bite his chest, stinging like fire.
That pushed him right over the edge, the purple and pink sky going dim.
“Oooh, that was a fine appetizer,” Sonny was saying when his hearing came back. “Really fine.”
“Uh-huh.” He nodded, kissing Sonny’s jaw, the hollow under Sonny’
s ear.
“We could have steaks now. Protein. Energy.”
“We could. We’ll need energy for the storm.”
“We will.” Laughing, Sonny lifted him right up, got them sitting. “And we don’t want to waste the weird bananas.”
He started chuckling, ass squeezing Sonny’s cock. “You and your fucking bananas.”
“You like my banana.” Okay, that was so obvious. So bad it made him laugh. Which made everything jiggle and move and wow.
“Mmm.” Maybe the steaks could wait a little bit longer….
Sonny must have agreed with him. “I hear cold steak salad is nice,” Sonny suggested.
“It’s delicious.” He squeezed again, leaned in for a kiss.
“Oh good. Then that’s what we’ll do.” Sonny hadn’t really even gone soft, moving in him.
“Mmm-hmm. You’re a fucking addiction.” His own personal high.
“Yeah, well, you’re pretty damned hot yourself.” He knew that smile, knew it meant Sonny was on an adrenaline high, ready to go and go like that silly pink bunny.
“I’m just stunned we’ve managed six months and no one’s been kidnapped.” He was about to say cuffed, but there was that time or two they’d played some….
“No shit. Or shot at.” He noticed Sonny didn’t say beaten either. Because, you know, they’d tied it up once or twice, and there’d been some play in that, some not.
He started moving, riding nice and easy. “Hell, we haven’t had to pull out the morphine since you stitched my face up.”
Scar actually looked sexy. Rugged. Rakish.
“Mmm-hmm.” Sonny moved beneath him, reaching up to touch his scar, eyes on his, dark and focused. “I did good.”
Oh, it was easy to lean in, rest his cheek on that hand. “You took good care of me.”
Just like he’d taken care of Sonny.
It worked well. He was a fan.
“We’re mutual. And getting mushy.” Sonny laughed out loud, reaching up to hold him steady as Sonny whirled them, on top of him now. Holding his hands next to his head.
MJ squeezed again, bearing down on that pretty prick. “Doesn’t feel mushy.”
