Road Trip, Volume 1

by BA Tortuga

  “Well, we get a suite, and we can keep them in a room, and we can have a little privacy.”

  “True. Okay, then. I swear to God, English, didn’t you take Dramamine?” There. Comfort Inn and Suites.

  “No more pie for him, Sunshine.”

  “Oh God. Don’t make it worse. He just needs out of the car, okay?” Rick sounded fucking stressed.

  Hell, he’d be stressed too, if MJ suddenly started spewing intestines or whatever the fuck that man was heaving up. It was foul, whatever it was. “It’s all right, Red. We’re just teasing him a little. Can’t have a road trip without good-natured bullshit.”

  He pulled off at the next ramp, his shoulders and back screaming at him.

  “I’ll get the room, huh? Make sure those two are locked in together, and then you can take a long-assed shower, huh?” He must look as sore as he felt, the way MJ was looking after him.

  “Yeah. Yeah.” He could usually drive for hours and not feel it, but the tension of having the other two, and one of them sick… well, it wore. “We can run to the gas station over there and get Blondie some of that antinausea liquid.”

  “Yeah. Grab some drinks too.” He dropped MJ off at the lobby, his Precious damn near stalking into the place.

  Sonny sighed. “Can y’all be good in the back seat while I get the shit? I don’t think we want Neil there in the store.”

  “We’ll be good, Sonny. I swear. Just get him some medicine, please?”

  Grimacing, he nodded and pulled the car around. “I’m not a mean bastard, honey. Really. I’ll be right back. You run, MJ will hunt you down. I bet you know that.”

  Rick laughed, the sound a little hysterical. “Neil’s not ready to run yet. MJ can hunt us tomorrow after we’ve all had a nap.”

  He kinda liked the kid. He really did. Laughing a bit himself, Sonny nodded, checking Neil. Green as a frog. “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

  He got like three bottles of cherry-flavored antinausea stuff, some Cokes, a pack of cigarettes, and about a million packages of Twinkies, Ding Dongs and Zingers and assorted chocolate. He was back at the car before Neil even stopped gurgling.

  “I saw MJ head toward the back.” He nodded at the kid. MJ’d called. Suite with kitchenette. One door out. Third floor. Secure as they were going to get, and if they had to spend a couple days, they wouldn’t kill each other.

  “Come on, then. Let’s get this one settled.” Lord, that poor Brit was just sounding like he was gonna die, panting like a hot dog.

  They manhandled Neil into the room, and MJ was there to greet Sonny, looking like home. Goddamn.

  “Okay. Rick. Get him in the shower with drugs. You two have the room with the door. Use it.” MJ was focused on him, eyes heated. His Precious was pissed and tired and frustrated, and that meant one of two things.

  A good fuck or a good fight.

  Maybe both.

  Thank God.

  The door clicked shut, and it was so quiet he could hear the hum of the clock on the little table. “Alone at last.”

  “No more company on road trips.” MJ stepped right into his space, hands landing hard on his shoulders, fingers digging in.

  “No shit, Precious.” His head rolled back, his shoulders rising up against the pain of it before relaxing into MJ’s touch.

  “You’re fucking tight, and not in the fun, spanky way.” MJ kept working him hard, not giving him a fucking inch.

  Rising up on his tiptoes, he fought the tingling and spasms. “Yeah. I shoulda stopped, but I just thought we were so close. Damn, I want home.”

  “I hear you. Shit, we’re going to have to find a bunch of those ginger pills; otherwise that bastard’s going to puke all over the boat.”

  “God, we can’t have that. Man, he’s got the touchiest stomach ever. Maybe I shouldn’t have drugged his tea that second morning….” But fuck, Neil had just needled and poked, and MJ was gonna kill him if he didn’t shut up, so he’d done it out of the kindness of his heart.

  “Maybe. Maybe he’s allergic to stuff. I don’t know. We’ll let him sleep a bit.” MJ started on his neck, the tingles going to his toes.

  “Uhn.” His knees buckled a little. “I need to sit if you’re gonna keep that up.”

  “Then sit.” Ah, romance. That was his MJ.

  He staggered right over to the bed and plopped down. “I got junk food.”

  “Chocolate?” MJ dragged his gimme cap and T-shirt right off, hands landing on him.

  “Yep. Three kinds. I even got those dark chocolate things with the liquor.” All he could do then was hum as MJ touched him. Those scarred hands knew every inch of him and played him like a fine instrument.

  “Oh, I’m so letting you live.” MJ’s chuckle went a long way to easing little pockets of grr inside him.

  “Well, that’s good. You’d never make it without killing them without me, and God knows, jail wouldn’t suit you….” He was rambling, and MJ paid him back with a pinch. “Ow!”

  “Shut up, Sunshine. I’m busy.” MJ settled behind him, thighs spread out alongside his.

  “I’m happy. Go for it.” One by one his muscles let go, easing until he figured he’d just ooze right off the bed.

  MJ’s mouth started working alongside those fingers, lips on his head, tongue teasing the stubble. “Need to shave you, Sunshine.”

  “Mm-hmm. All scratchy.” Not that it mattered when MJ was touching him that way. All that kissing and massaging.

  “Uh-huh. You smell good. How the fuck can you smell good after being in that car all day?” MJ nuzzled his ear, teeth grazing his earlobe.

  “Because you like Sonny smell.” Chuckling, Sonny rubbed up against MJ, moaning, happy as a pig in shit. His whole body felt like a too-tight coil that was unwinding.

  “I do.” MJ’s hands wrapped around him, cupped his balls and started rolling them, nice and easy.

  “Mmmnuh.” That was the best he could do with his toes curling and his cock going completely hard from only half-mast and… yeah. Good. Apparently MJ agreed, lips on his shoulder, those smart fucking hands working his cock and balls. MJ could make a man appreciate a good hand job.

  “Love the way you touch me, Precious.” There. Words. Together in a sentence. See him? He could talk. Woo.

  “Mm-hmm.” MJ got into a rhythm—pumping with one hand, rolling with the other, thumbs working like nothing going.

  “I…. MJ. Honey. I can’t….” Wow. He was just gonna go off. He really was. He hadn’t even felt like it when they started. Now? Damn. Damn.

  “It’s okay. Come on. Let it go.” MJ dragged one fingernail over the tip of his prick, just hard enough to sting. His eyes squeezed shut and his head fell forward, and Sonny just came all over, grunting loud and hard. His whole body shook, his muscles like Jell-O. Damn, sometimes a man just needed a fucking amazing orgasm to relax him.

  He got eased down on the mattress, MJ pressed up close against his back, warm and solid as a rock.

  “Oh, Precious, that hit the spot.” All melty, he just lay there and listened to his heartbeat, letting MJ love on him.

  “It did. You were going to have a psychotic break with reality.”

  “I was close.” Sonny snorted. “Bastard has nerve, horking in my car.” Damn, MJ felt right pressed up against him. His. Home, whether they were on the water or not.

  “Yeah. We’ll have to pray he’s not seasick.” MJ’s chuckles tickled the back of his neck.

  “No shit. I really think it’s that shit I slipped him. He must be allergic, like you said. He was fine the first day.” Hell, the only problem had been that whole MJ-killing-Neil thing. Sonny had just needed Neil to shut up for a day.

  “Poor bastard.” MJ sounded positively gleeful.

  “You’re an ass, you know?” There was no rancor in him, though. Not when he was feeling So. Damned. Good. “So. Should we bathe? Fuck? Eat chocolate?”

  “Mmm. Chocolate. Then fucking. Then a bath with a little bit more fucking. Then possibly a nap.”
>
  “Okay.” Yeah. He could do that. “The chocolate is in the baggie by the door.” If he was lucky, he’d get to watch MJ walk back and forth. That ass…. Oh. Oh hell yes. MJ was hard and feeling good, pretty ass swaying back and forth, balls drawn up tight. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, Precious. I swear, you’d rev a dead man up.” And he wasn’t dead. No, sir.

  “So long as you’re revving, the rest can go fuck themselves.” MJ bent, spread wide. Oh, little show-off.

  Sonny moaned. “Pretty.” He propped up on his elbows to get a better view. “Oh, I got me a fried pie. Can you bring that? I was craving.”

  “I can.” MJ hummed, gathering the goodies and a couple of Cokes. “You found some good stuff.”

  “Anything for you, Boomer.” Lord, he must be feeling better if he was ready for what that would get him.

  “Oh, now. You’re doing so good. Don’t make me hurt you.”

  He hooted. “You want to. Admit it. You’ve been good, though, Precious. I have to say.” MJ hadn’t exploded once today.

  “I’m practicing my patience. I have probably earned a blowjob.” MJ sashayed back, hands full of goodies.

  “You have. Feed me, and I’ll lick you clean.” And then some. God, he loved MJ-flavored treats. A lot.

  MJ crawled right up, opened the wrapper on his fried pie, and fed him a bite. Mmm. Fruity-flavored terrorist.

  Sonny licked at MJ’s scarred fingers, the taste of salt mingling with cherry and sugar glaze. “Mmm. That’s happy making.”

  “Open a Ding Dong and we’ll talk happy.” He got another bite.

  “You don’t have to tell me twice.” Hoo, yeah. Ding Dong heaven was achieved in seconds, and he pushed a bite against MJ’s lips, watching with fascination as it disappeared.

  “Mmnh.” There were two things Sonny’d found to make MJ make that noise—sex and chocolate. Not even blowing shit up made his Precious sound like that.

  “You look decadent, man. Like I could eat you up.” They shared a kiss that tasted like Black Forest cake, all chocolate and cherry and cream. Oh, that was something else. MJ groaned, tongue fucking his lips, those hungry, happy little sounds tickling his lips. Fuck yes. Sonny nipped at MJ’s tongue, that sweet lower lip. Sonny rubbed some, letting his hard cock stroke MJ’s thigh.

  MJ’s cock kissed his belly, wet-tipped and hot, reminding him that he was one-up in the orgasm department. He’d promised MJ’s favorite reward. A blowjob. Grinning, Sonny broke the kiss and pushed MJ down, needing to taste more than chocolate. He could take his time, really give it to Precious good.

  “You look like the cat that got the cream, Sunshine.” MJ spread a little, ass moving on the bed, sliding.

  “I am. I got you. Can’t ask for more.” He could take, though. Sonny put his mouth to MJ’s skin, sliding down that flat belly. He could smell that heat. Made his mouth water.

  “I’d kill for your mouth, man.” MJ stretched right on out for him, all that ink dark and spiky against the tan.

  He loved how that tat gave him something to trace with his tongue. “Can’t wait to put my ink on you, Precious.”

  Oh, now. He did like how MJ’s cock throbbed, liquid dripping on that skin to tempt him. “I want you to do it. Want to wear your mark.”

  “God, yeah.” He licked down to the base before coming back to catch that drop. Salty, bitter-good, and Sonny savored it for a bit before going back for more. MJ made these amazing fucking noises for him, all husky and rich as that cock slipped over his tongue. Reaching up, he stroked the base with his thumb as he sucked MJ in, lips making a tight seal. Rubbing his mouth up and down, tongue moving on the underside of MJ’s cock, Sonny sucked. Hard.

  It didn’t take a second for MJ to start moving for him, thrusting up toward him as those hands fisted in the sheets. Yeah, just like that, Precious. Give it up.

  Harder and harder he sucked, just really wanting to give what MJ so freely gave him. Pleasure. Pure fucking pleasure. MJ started babbling, love words and filthy words pouring out before that sweet, heavy cock jerked and filled his mouth.

  Sonny took it all in, licked MJ clean before shimmying up the sturdy body to let MJ feed him another bite of pie. “Damn, Precious.”

  “Uh. Uh-huh.” Man, dizzy and dazed was a fucking fine look on MJ.

  “Want more chocolate?” He was horny as hell, but he could wait. Watching MJ eat was foreplay.

  “Okay.” MJ opened up, just licking the cream and chocolate off his fingers. Sensual, addicted little fuck. He fed MJ bite after bite, taking kisses, licking cream off MJ’s chin. Among other places.

  He heard the bathroom door open and close, then the bedroom door shut. MJ didn’t say a word, just fed him another pie, painting his lips with cherry and lapping at them. Sonny didn’t mention it either. No sense ruining the mood. He licked at MJ’s fingers, his chin. Damn. Yeah. “Good stuff.”

  “Uh-huh. We need to buy stock in these pie things. They make your lips soft.”

  “Do they? You sure that’s not the kissing and sucking?” Grinning, he kissed MJ again, addicted to the touching.

  “Kissing. Sucking. Blowing. Cherries. Sugar. Whatever.” MJ looked more relaxed than he had in days.

  “It’s all good, huh?” They stretched out, randomly nuzzling and touching, just slow and easy and happy. Sonny felt like he might could go on tomorrow.

  “You know it.” MJ’s hands were everywhere, just feeling him up.

  “You’re getting right naughty, Precious. You looking for another go ’round?” He could do one more. Then a nap. Then maybe more.

  “One more. Then we lock them in and sleep hard.” This time was building slow and sweet, MJ just loving on him.

  “Uh-huh. Okay. Want.” Sonny licked at MJ’s lips, let his teeth drag over them. He loved the way they went swollen and hot for him, kinda like MJ’s prick.

  “Uh-huh.” MJ slid over the top of him, rocking them together. “Mine.”

  “Yours. Right… oh, right there.” Good. So good, the way they fit. “Mine, Precious. You’re mine too.”

  “Uh-huh.” One hand slid down his back and squeezed his ass. “Right there.”

  Their hips rocked together, their pricks lining up. Sonny grinned wildly, humping like a bad puppy. “Fuck, you feel good.”

  “You know it.” MJ laughed, kissing him hard enough their teeth clicked together.

  They rolled again, Sonny grabbing MJ’s hips to rub them together like two sticks to make fire. They got the box springs to creaking, the mattress rocking as MJ went to town. Hell yes. Soon. All he could do was rock and roll, biting down on MJ’s throat. He needed that taste too. Yeah. Just to push him along. MJ grunted and slammed into him, spunk spraying against his belly. Oh hell yes. Just like that.

  “Precious!” Sonny shot like crazy, his eyes rolling, his hips jerking madly.

  Oh. Okay. Better.

  “Yeah.” MJ looked fine, relaxed and right. About fucking time.

  Sonny grinned down and sorta flopped, listening to MJ’s breath whoosh out. “Time for napping? Or are you hungry?”

  “Napping is good. Then pancakes.” MJ’s cock jiggled against him as MJ chuckled. “And bacon.”

  “Oh, bacon. You do know the way to my heart.” MJ had stolen that ages ago, but he didn’t have to be that obvious all the time.

  “Yes. Pig fat, beer, and the occasional shoot-out and you’re happy.”

  “Well, if you add ‘car chase’ and ‘drug MJ so we can fly’ to that, you’ve got it in one.” That ought to get him at least a smack, even if MJ was all boneless.

  He got a groan and the briefest pinch—he must’ve been better than he thought. “Asshole.”

  “That would be me. Your turn next time.” His stubble scraped MJ’s chin as he nuzzled. “This is good. Next time make me stop sooner, ’kay?”

  “Uh-huh. Next time we’ll drop the passengers off a cliff first.” MJ stretched and hummed like all was right with the world. “Would that be littering, you think?”

&
nbsp; “Only if they splattered when they hit. Maybe if we threw them in water.” Sad thing was? MJ wasn’t joking….

  MJ shoved the candy papers off the bed, wrapping around him with a little snuffling groan. Sonny nodded, settling in, not caring one bit that they’d stick together later. For now he’d just take what he had and be a happy man. They’d deal with the puking wonder and the genius later.

  Maybe.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  NEIL THOUGHT he might find a slow, painful way of killing whoever had drugged him. Something that required a great deal of vomit and bleeding from the intestines and perhaps inflammation of the ear canals.

  Still, he was alive and had a private room with Paddy, and his insides were no longer fighting to be on the outside.

  All was well.

  Poor Paddy. He hadn’t slept until Neil had, and he still slumbered on, his thoughts occasionally rumbly and protective. Neil pushed up on one elbow and wondered if there was a toothbrush or toothpaste anywhere near.

  He got up, padded to the door. They weren’t locked in, and the two out there were sleeping like babies, so he went in search of something minty.

  Ah. There, on the counter in the powder room. Neil decided against using the big guy’s toothbrush, but he brushed well with his finger before going back to Paddy and slipping into bed, nuzzling right up.

  Paddy moaned, tugging him close and petting his spine. Concern and care flooded him, Paddy fretting over him, protecting him even as Paddy slept.

  “Shh. I’m much better, love.” He stroked Paddy’s back in turn, fingers singling out each bump. “In fact, I need you to wake up now….”

  “Mmm.” Paddy smiled for him, snuggled right up against him, eyelashes fluttering.

  “Hello, love. Are you feeling better rested?” He kissed Paddy’s lips, feeling almost ridiculously pleased with life. He assumed it was because their captors were feeling that way.

  “Yes. You’re better? You feel better.” Paddy stroked his temples, smoothed his hair.

  “I am. Much.” He took a kiss, happy that no one was watching in a rearview mirror. “You?”