Road Trip, Volume 1

by BA Tortuga

  “Yeah. Part of the job description. Thinking on your feet.” Mmm. Nipplage. Salty. Sweet. Yum.

  “Uh-huh. You know me. I like a plan….” Sonny must have lost the plan, though, because the man was just grunting and kinda humping him.

  “Mm-hmm….” He slid down to his knees, working toward that heavy prick. He’d get it all wet and slick and throbby and then offer Sonny his ass. It seemed more than fair. Sonny knew where he was headed. When it all came down to it, they could think along the same lines really well. One hand cupped the back of his head and pushed him down, Sonny’s growl rumbling deep in that belly, against his cheek.

  He fucking loved that sound. MJ bit Sonny’s belly a little, just enough to sting, and then he wrapped his lips around the tip of Sonny’s cock and sucked hard.

  “Uhn. Precious. Yeah.” Oh yeah. Sonny was doing that bendy thing, where his knees crooked and his hips pushed up. It didn’t get better than that.

  Uh-huh. Just like that. He rubbed Sonny’s thighs, head bobbing some as he went down on that fine fucking cock. Sonny cussed him, praised him, and finally started to beg him, voice rough and broken, hands petting his head and shoulders, fingers tangling in his hair. Sonny did love his damned hair since it had gotten all surfer dude. He pulled back, breathing hard, his fucking body one big ball of need. “Want you to fuck me.”

  Sonny’s eyes blazed down at him, all dilated pupils. “Okay. Yeah. I can do that, Precious. We don’t have anything here, though. My turn.” Sonny dropped down, spinning him around to pull his ass right up and bite one cheek. Hard.

  “Fucker!” God, that burned. So fucking much. MJ’s hips swayed, thighs parting and ass pushing out like a bitch in heat.

  “Mm-hmm. That’s the idea. Me fucker. You fuckee.”

  Bastard. Beautiful bastard, laughing at him again. Sonny made up for it, though. Right then. That hot tongue scraped over his stinging ass, then down, between, pushing right at his hole. Oh yeah. Right there. It was easy as breathing, hips rocking back, hands just thrumming on the deck.

  Sonny opened him, spread him, getting him so wet their skin made slick noises as it slipped and slid. Finally Sonny moved up behind him, pushing against him, thick cock inside him before he could even blink. The burn and stretch were just what he needed, just enough to make him hum and push back, slap his ass right into the basket of Sonny’s hips. Those big hands grabbed him, fingers digging into his hips, and they rocked together, Sonny really giving it to him, slamming in over and over.

  Hell yes. Like that. Just fucking like that. “More. Sonny.”

  “Uh-huh. Gonna. MJ. Damn.” Oh, that growly voice gone all incoherent was a good, good thing. So was Sonny’s cock swelling in him, hitting all his hot spots, rubbing and driving him crazy.

  “Yeah. Yeah. My cock, Sunshine. Please.” He wouldn’t need much. Just a touch. Come on.

  Sonny just grunted and let go of his hip with one hand to reach down beneath him and grab his cock, pulling hard in time with each thrust that shook him, made him slide on the deck. Oh fuck yes. Every nerve in his body fired at once, eyes rolling back in his head as he shot his load. He got one short cry as Sonny filled him right up, coming inside him in hard bursts, leaving them both limp and breathless when they collapsed.

  “Mmm. Yeah. That was. Uh-huh.” Loved that fucking man.

  “You think that was a good plan, Precious?” Those lips moving against his nape had him shivering.

  “Excellent fucking plan.”

  Grade A.

  “Oh, good. Wait until you see what I can do with planning our flights.”

  “Planning our what?”

  “Flights. To California….”

  Evil fucking asshole.

  “No flying. We’ll get a fast car.”

  “Sure, Precious. Sure we will.” Sonny slid away and patted his ass. “It’ll be fine.”

  “Mm-hmm.” He stretched out, the sunshine just baking him, balls to bones. Evil redneck.

  They’d argue a lot more between there and California, but Sonny had agreed to do the job. The rest was just child’s play.

  Chapter Four

  SOMETIMES IT seemed odd to be on dry land.

  Sonny figured he and MJ spent enough time out on the water to be dolphins or something. Whales. Oh! Manatees. He chuckled at the idea of a manatee with MJ’s floppy, sun-streaked hair. Then he chuckled again at the look on MJ’s face if Sonny mentioned his thought.

  They were holed up in a seedy motel in the Keys while MJ got the rest of his instructions for the job. The money was damned good, and while sometimes Sonny thought MJ liked his work just a teensy bit too much, he wasn’t gonna bitch.

  The hotel had magic fingers in the beds.

  “Hey, Precious,” he said, reaching out with his toes to pull the hair on MJ’s bare leg. “You about ready to stop surfing and come ride instead?”

  “Ow! Damn, that stings.” MJ looked over and grinned, the edge of nerves and excitement just starting to show.

  They surely didn’t need MJ to peak too early. Shit, just the drive to the Mississippi would be a pain in the ass. Time to work off some steam. “You get all the details?”

  “Yeah, for the most part. We need to stop in Lubbock for the good stuff. I have to find a car. Do you have a preference?”

  “Something fast….” They tended to get shot at. “Know what I was daydreaming about while I was over here aaaalll by myself?”

  “Mmm…. Fried okra and moonshine?”

  “Asshole. I was thinking about you, naked, swimming in the ocean.” Manatees were naked, right?

  Oh, now that got him some attention, got one of those hands sliding right up his leg. “Yeah? I’m a fan.”

  Sonny spread, figuring he had MJ looking now. “Uh-huh. Me too. I love your ass when it’s just above the waterline. Hell, I love it any way I can get it.”

  Oh, look at that. The laptop closed, and MJ turned all the way around toward him.

  Hoo yeah. Go him. Score one for the redneck with the sweaty balls. “I was thinking maybe you could bring that ass over here. What do you think?”

  “I think that’s a plan I could get… behind.” MJ snorted at his own joke, eyes dancing as said behind came closer.

  “Lord, Precious, that was bad.” Digging his heels in, Sonny lifted his hips, really showing off as he spanked the air with his growing cock.

  “Mm-hmm….” He didn’t think MJ was listening, not the way those eyes were staring at his cock.

  Casually, Sonny reached down and cupped himself, stroking, humping up into the touch. Damn. “You want some of this, MJ?”

  “Uh-uh.” He’d’ve pouted if MJ hadn’t groaned, deep and low, those scarred-up hands sliding on the chintzy coverlet. “Want it all.”

  “Come and get it, then.” Hell, at this point he’d stroke himself off and let MJ have his ass. He was easy that way these days. It still kinda boggled his mind.

  MJ’s teeth found the inner curve of his knee, and then that hot tongue slid up his thigh.

  “Uhn.” His legs were gonna fall off if he pushed them apart any more. His muscles quivered, and he just watched that man love on him. Fuck, yeah.

  MJ was kinda muttering, lips moving against his inner thigh, fingers sliding to work his balls.

  “Come on, Precious. Gimme.” Give him something. Suck, rim, fuck. Sonny didn’t care. His elbow thumped the mattress as he stroked himself, really finding a rhythm.

  MJ moved, quick as a snake, and wrapped those lips around the tip of Sonny’s cock, mouth moving in time with his hand, fingers pushing down to tap at Sonny’s hole.

  “Fuck! MJ….” Sonny trailed off with a groan, his whole lower body one giant tingle. Jesus. More like a burn. He bore down, opening right up for that finger. MJ fucking knew him, knew right where to touch him, where to stroke and suck and…. Yeah. Yeah, just like that. He thrashed, hard words falling from his lips, needing so bad he felt like he was strung out like a wire. Ready to snap. “MJ. Fuck. Please, Precious. More.”


  One finger became two, MJ’s head snapping up, those eyes just burning. “Want you, man. Need in.”

  “Now, MJ. Now.” All he could think of was that pretty cock inside him, stretching him. That and MJ on top of him, just moving and groaning and yeah… not a manatee in sight. MJ nodded, licking one palm and slicking that fine cock before pushing his thighs wide and lining up. Sonny let go of his cock long enough to grab MJ’s shoulders and pull, hauling them together, pulling MJ right in. His eyes rolled back. That was the fucking ticket. Right on.

  “Yeah.” MJ didn’t waste any time, just drove into him, eyes boring into him like nothing going.

  They moved together like they were meant to, and Sonny had stopped questioning that a long while back. His belly felt tight as a board, his thighs shook, and his cock leaked all over hell and half of Georgia. MJ hauled him closer, his ass meeting MJ’s thighs as one hand found his cock. Shit, between the mattress squeaking, the cock pegging him deep, and those fingers jacking him good and hard? He was happier than a pig in shit.

  Sonny reached above him and grabbed the headboard, arching into it even more, needing it like nothing else in the world. They got all sweaty, got humming and groaning, and all of a sudden it was too damned much. His cock throbbed, his ass tightened, and he came all over, spattering MJ’s chest.

  “Oh, sweet fuck. So fucking fine….” MJ slid his fingers over that tanned skin, licking them clean and moaning loud. The motions of those lean hips got faster, cock punching deep.

  “Yeah, Precious. Now. Goddamn.” He could watch now, even if his eyelids tried to get all heavy. MJ looked fine, cheeks dark, chest heaving, nipples so hard.

  “Uh… uh-huh. Now.” MJ’s head went back, throat working as heat filled Sonny. Shit. No fat, hairless manatee could manage that. Especially not on slick motel sheets.

  His. MJ was his very own psychotic, sexy bastard. Sonny held MJ as he plopped down on top, stroking that sweaty back. “That was way better than my imagining.”

  “Yeah?” MJ hummed a little, fingers on his chest, heart just pounding away.

  “Uh-huh. Way. Got your attention, huh? Wanna try the magic fingers?” He grinned, expecting a pinch.

  MJ chuckled, fingers finding his nipple and tweaking. “You and the magic fingers. I got extra quarters at the desk. Rev her up.”

  Chapter Five

  “RICK, DUDE. Boss lady says you got company coming.”

  Padraic looked up from his notes, pushed his glasses up. “Huh? Company? Me?”

  Who the hell was this guy? Man, they went through interns at a terrifying rate. Hmm. Wonder if there was a mathematic corollary? The ratio of interns was directly proportional to the amount of times Bethy threw something caustic or flammable toward said intern’s head.

  “Yeah, dude. Some guy. Bethy said to be nice and not scare him away or freeze any bit of him off.”

  “Oh fuck off. I haven’t hurt anybody in way longer than she has. Speaking of, can you turn that burner off over there before that flask explodes?”

  “I’d say it’s too late for that.” The deep, cultured, and way accented voice came like two seconds before the flask shattered, sending the intern scrambling and yelping. “What a pleasure to meet you.”

  Oh. Oops. He chuckled and grabbed a hot pad on his way over. “Hey. Thanks. Well, I mean, we haven’t met yet, but I’m Padraic Bair. Rick. So, assuming you’re looking for me, hi. Or, yeah. If you’re wearing polyester blends, you might want to move away from there.”

  “Wool. And I’m quite far enough. No one likes to smell like a singed lamb.” Waiting calmly for Rick to put out the fire, the guy stood there, hands in the pockets of his fancy pants until Rick got everything doused. Then the guy stuck one hand out.

  “Neil Caseman.”

  Rick shook the man’s hand and smiled, still more than ninety-eight percent confused as to why he had company. One point six percent of him was convinced Bethy was being a bitch and foisting off some newbie suit from the main office because she’d forgotten to wear a bra again. Point two percent of him was thinking oh, he’d won the stud lottery and this was a gift from the gods, because, hey. Guy. Sex. Hello. “How can I help you?”

  “I like your name. Padraic.” Mr. Neil Caseman had green eyes, blond hair graying around the edges, a trim body that was not too horribly tall, and he held Rick’s hand about two seconds too long for politeness, thumb sliding against the web between Rick’s thumb and forefinger.

  “Thanks. My dad was Irish. We’ve all got the amazing names. Neil’s a good name too. Means champion. Pretty cool, really. I mean, do they make names meaning second runner-up or son of ‘gee, you almost don’t suck’? No. So are you a new hire? Sorry, Bethy didn’t send me an email.” Or if she did, he’d deleted it this morning in his “pre-juice and forbidden Pop-Tart” frenzy.

  “I’ll be evaluating the lab for a bit. Nothing that should concern you, but as the premier researcher here, your employer thought we ought to meet straightaway.”

  Oh man. Evaluating. “That sounds ominous. Evaluating who for what? They did show you where Bethy’s office is, yeah? She’s the boss. Has a secretary and a schedule and shit. I’m just the chief lab monkey.” He reached up, tugged one red curl that was probably breaking some lab rule about hair, but man, haircuts happened while he was working, and those places smelled bad. “Or orangutan, I guess.”

  “I’ve met Beth, yes. I’m to evaluate the lab, as I said. That means you.” Smooth, smiley, not a bit fake, but somehow the guy just wasn’t… right.

  “Well, cool. You want a cup of coffee?” Surely he wasn’t supposed to entertain the man. Surely not. Because he had stuff to do. Like send an email to Bethy asking what the fuck he was supposed to do with a dressed-up guy and how long he was supposed to do it.

  “Only if you have the most exquisite cream.” The smile was nice. It went all the way to Neil’s eyes, making them twinkle. “But if you might provide hot water….”

  “Hot water? Well, thermodynamics lab. My specialty. Sure.” Okay, something to do. Hrm. Okay. Erlenmeyer flask from the box. Good. Good. Next. Water. Okay, no-brainer. Cup. Cup. Oh, there was a Star Tre…. Oh God. Scary. Scary. Trash. Don’t look. Christ. Oh. Look. One of Bethy’s Fraggle Rock ones. Cool.

  “Excellent. I have tea bags.” A little laptop case appeared, Neil pulling a tea bag out of one of the pockets.

  “You carry tea bags? For real?” He filled the flask with water and lit a burner. Okay, interesting. Odd, but interesting.

  “Naturally. Doesn’t everyone?” One perfectly groomed eyebrow went up. Just one. That was annoying.

  And sort of Spock-y. His head tilted as he thought. “Nope.”

  “Oh. Well. Shall we have tea?” More rummaging in the bag produced a squashed muffin, chocolate chip in variety, a pack of Cheese and Wheat crackers, and two-thirds of a large-size Dairy Milk bar.

  “Okay.” He grinned and shook his head. “Although, I warn you, you start going Mary Poppins with that bag, and we’re having a class about the laws of physics. Some things are supposed to be what they are.”

  He got a little spot cleaned off and found a mostly unburned stool.

  “I rather like the idea of a TARDIS, myself. And laws are meant to be broken.” Oh. Now that was a smile. Wicked.

  “Well, sort of. I mean, I like the laws that we find out aren’t laws. Like the projectiles here, you have to…. Oh. Oh man, if I had a TARDIS, then the dissolution factor would be solved without resorting to zero Gs and vacuum freezing. Damn. Still, they’re not going to fund that.” He looked at the flask, the bubbles forming. “How hot? I can go anywhere from tepid to tongue-melting.”

  “I just bet you can.” Voice going all low and growly, Neil plopped down on the stool, propping his chin on his hands. “I like it boiling. Tea won’t steep properly without.”

  Oh. Growly. And accenty. Wow. He’d take two, please.

  “I can do that. Boil water, I mean. Anybody can. The secret is superheating steam, yo
u know? Can you imagine? Instant tea. Of course it would be more like tea rain, which has its place. I mean, you could collect it in barrels and drink it, if the condensation area was clean….” Paddy trailed off, realizing Neil was smiling at him with his head tilted, a waiting look on his face. Jesus H. Christ, Paddy, can’t you shut up? He could hear Kynan’s voice in his head, see his oldest brother’s eyes glaring. His whole face burned, and his glasses slipped a little. “Oh. Right. Sorry. I don’t. Science nerd. Yeah. It’s boiling. Watch your hands.”

  “Oh, don’t apologize. I quite like listening.” The tea bag and cup slid over, propelled by one of those great hands. “Please don’t think I was mocking. I wasn’t.”

  “I just tend to think aloud. Trust me, I don’t waste lab money with silly stuff. I just….” Just what? Imagine? Superheated steam causing a room to rain tea? Bethy was going to kill him.

  “Stop.” The flask teetered as he got all bouncy, and Neil reached out and grabbed his wrist, steadying it. Warm, only a bit callused, and very sensitive—Neil’s fingers felt good. Really good. “It’s fine. I’m not going to dock you for having a good imagination.”

  “It’s a creative thing, science. People forget that.” His eyes were focused on those fingers, not on the flask or the cup, which was a little oops, especially when the cup got filled to the top.

  The tiniest motion tilted his hand back up, stopping the flow. “Precisely. You have a talent for it, and I imagine that’s because you aren’t hidebound. Now, have a treat with me.”

  “A treat?” He turned off the burner, put the flask down. “Hidebound is the neatest word. It sounds like something that should be exotic but isn’t.”

  “Chocolate. Muffin or candy bar?” Smiling, Neil pulled packets of sugar out of his bag, the kind you got at the Olive Garden. Little tubes.

  “Bethy didn’t show you the sign?” Neil was, like, scary together. Either that or he lived out of that bag….

  “Sign? No, I’m afraid not.” Tapping the sugar into the tea, Neil pulled out a stirring stick. Wow.