Last Stop

by Lou Harper

  “So. What now?”

  “You’re not really in danger anymore, but we’ll set you up with a new identity just the same. The bureau has egg on its face for your whereabouts getting out, so it’ll do whatever it can to make you happy. I’m guessing we’ll be taking care of your boy too.”

  “Make sure you relocate us somewhere in a city this time. Junior’s not cut out for country living.”

  Jones leaned back in his chair and gave Sam a curious look. “So what’s up with this kid? Awful young, isn’t he?”

  “Yes. He is. So what?”

  “I never figured you for—”

  “A sissy-ass faggot?”

  “Don’t be a dick, Sam. I had a hunch, back in the day. You’re not the first gay man I’ve ever met, you know.”

  “You had a hunch?”

  “You reminded me of someone. And the way you went on about getting Gianco for Vincent Costa’s murder. I got the impression that it was something personal.”

  “Oh that. Yes, it was, I guess.”

  “Did he and you…”

  “No. It’s just… It’s complicated.”

  Sam had never managed to untangle that ball of anger and remorse Vince’s death left him with. He had spent many nights trying to figure out if there was anything he could’ve done to prevent it, but all he had to show for his efforts was a whole lot of impotent frustration. Fortunately, Jones didn’t pry.

  “What was it you were gonna say then?” Sam asked.

  “I was just surprised to see you so involved with somebody. I expected you to stay a miserable, lonely bastard for the rest of your life, to be honest.”

  Sam let out a rueful laugh. “Maybe that would be the best for everyone involved.”

  “How do you figure that?” Jones asked, eyebrows drawn up.

  How the fuck was Sam supposed to explain the ghosts of dead men following him around and their weight in guilt. Just thinking about it made him feel exhausted. How was he supposed to start over like nothing happened?

  Sam rubbed his face. “Shit, Jones, I don’t know if I can do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “This. Caring. Being scared to death that something might happen to him.”

  “That’s life, you know. That caring stuff is what keeps the human race going. Well, maybe not in your case, but it’s the general idea.”

  “It’s easy for you to talk. I’m not one of you normal people.”

  “I have news for you—nobody’s really normal. Anyway, what does that have to do with anything?”

  “Jay makes me feel like…fuck, like I don’t ever recall feeling, and I know I don’t fucking deserve it. I don’t want him to be the one paying for my past sins when it all gets taken away. I keep sending him away, but he keeps coming back, and I’m too fucking selfish and weak to do it for real.”

  “Did it ever occur to you that maybe you’re too hard on yourself?”

  “How can you say that? I almost lost him less than twenty-four hours ago! I don’t know what the fuck I’d have done if Jay got killed. I nearly fucking died when he showed up in the loft.”

  “Get your head out of your ass, Sam. You’ve made plenty of mistakes, sure, but Joey Gianco being a psychopath is only on him. And maybe on his parents. Anyway, it’s over. We live in a fucked-up world. Sick bastards live long and happy lives while innocent kids get kidnapped, killed and worse. There’s no fairness. Do you want to make up for your sins? Cut the self-pity and do something useful with your life. Take care of that kid. Looks like he needs it.”

  “Has anyone ever told you your bedside manner blows?” Sam groused, but he felt as if the load on his shoulders got just a bit lighter.

  “My ex-wife. All the time.”

  “So this undercover job…hard case?”

  “You have no idea. Trust me, you’re a boy scout compared to some.”

  “I’d ask if you wanted to talk about it, but I know you won’t.”

  “You got that right.”

  They sat in silence for a while. Sam turned Jones’s words over in his head. As screwed up as it was, Jones was the closest thing to a friend he had. Jones not thinking the worst of him meant a lot to Sam.

  At last Jones stretched and yawned. “I’m going back to my hotel. Maybe I can get three hours of sleep before having to get up again. We’ll check you out in the morning and move you to a safe house. Don’t get into any trouble till then.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Jay woke up in a dark hospital room, alone. He wasn’t happy about that, but he told himself Sam had to be around somewhere. He was just about to call for the nurse when Sam sauntered into the room. The flood of relief filling him surprised even Jay.

  “Where have you been?” he grumbled to hide his emotions.

  “Talking to Jones,” Sam said, pulling up a chair and sitting down next to the bed. He picked up Jay’s hand and laid it in his palm. Jay’s own looked small in Sam’s large paw. Sam covered it with his other hand.

  “Nice of him to show up at last. What’s going to happen now?” Jay grumbled on.

  “We’ll go to a safe house in the morning, stay there until everything gets sorted out. Get new identities, and all the other stuff.”

  Jay groaned. “New names again? I can’t keep them straight anymore.”

  This was the first time since the cops and Jones had busted into the loft that they’d had a chance to talk alone, and now Sam was getting that solemn look on his face that Jay started not liking at all. “You know, this is your last chance to make a break for it.”

  “Are you trying to dump me again?” Jay scowled back at Sam.

  Sam’s expression didn’t really change, but somehow it softened. As if he was relieved too. “No, Tiger, that’s the last thing I want. But after everything that just happened, I wouldn’t blame you if you’d changed your mind.”

  “I haven’t,” Jay replied stubbornly.

  The corners of Sam’s lips twitched upward. That was a good sign. “Okay then, some ground rules. Next time I tell you to get on that fucking plane, you get on that fucking plane.”

  “You lied to me! You swore you weren’t abandoning me, but being dead is just the same.” Jay was still plenty irate about that.

  Sam looked back at him, puzzled. “What the hell are you talking about? I meant every word I told you at the airport.”

  Now it was Jay’s turn to be confused. “So you really planned to come after me to Paris?”

  “Of course. What did you think I was planning to do?”

  “I thought you were going to get yourself killed on purpose.”

  Sam looked at Jay as if he’d grown a second head. “That was always a risk, but not the actual plan. I had no intention of getting myself killed.”

  “But then what were you doing going back there?”

  Sam sighed. “I couldn’t keep running forever and dragging you with me God knows where next.”

  “I wouldn’t have minded.”

  “I would’ve. I’ve had enough of watching my back all the time.”

  “So what did you exactly intend to do—kill them? Because if you did, you had a funny way of going about it.”

  “It crossed my mind, but if I did that I’d either be running again or spending the next twenty to life behind bars. No, the idea was to get them caught in the act—kidnapping, attempted murder… That should have taken care of them for a good long while. With a little luck they’d have rotted in prison.”

  Jay’s jaw dropped and he stared at Sam in disbelief for a few seconds. “So you purposely walked into their arms and were gonna let them beat you and torture you? That’s fucking crazy!” Jay had a problem wrapping his head around such an insane scheme.

  Sam shrugged. “It was the best I could come up with at short notice. I knew they’d stake out the loft. Letting them catch me there was the simplest plan. I had Mr. Bean call the cops at a set time. The timing was guesswork, but I knew that Joey would take his sweet time with me so there was some fl
exibility. Eventually the cops would show up. What I didn’t count on was you coming to my rescue. Of all the stupid, boneheaded—” Sam had a surly expression, but then his voice broke. It occurred to Jay what it must have been like for Sam, seeing him dragged in by Gino.

  “I was worried!” Jay protested weakly.

  “So you barged in?”

  “I called Agent Jones first, but he didn’t answer. I left a message. And I didn’t barge, I sneaked.”

  “You could have fooled me. I almost died of a heart attack when you showed up. If you ever scare me like that again, I’ll whip you so hard you’ll forget all your names.”

  “You say the sweetest things,” Jay said, grinning like an idiot.

  Sam gave him a funny look as if he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  Jay peered at him curiously. “Sam?”

  “Yes.”

  “You went ahead with that crazy, harebrained scheme so we could be together?”

  Sam gave an affirmative grunt.

  “I love you too,” Jay said, disguising with his playful tone that he really meant it.

  “You stupid donkey,” Sam replied.

  Jay was only slightly disappointed not hearing it back. Sam looked like hell, so Jay slid to one side of the bed and patted the other side. “There’s room enough for two, if we keep tight.”

  Sam hesitated for a second, then he carefully climbed onto the bed and lay back. Jay nestled into the bend of his arm. He turned to his side so he could twine himself around Sam, and soak up his warmth and solidity. His head rested on Sam’s chest.

  “You know why I call you Tiger?” Sam asked after a minute of silence.

  “Because you think I’m a kid?” It was a nickname fathers gave their sons after all. On TV, anyway.

  “No. Because you have claws and balls. You’re nobody’s doormat.”

  “I thought you meant to spank that out of me.” Jay figured it was best to keep it light.

  “Hell no. I love you just the way you are.”

  Jay nearly gave himself whiplash snapping his head up to look into Sam’s face.

  “You love me?”

  Sam looked back at him ruefully. “It’s sort of obvious, isn’t it?”

  “I’ve learned not to make assumptions.” Or have expectations. “Can you say it again?”

  Sam rolled his eyes. “Tiger, I love you. Now, don’t let it go to your head. I’ll still spank you if you act like a brat. Or just for fun.”

  That affectionate half-smile Sam was giving him was the sweetest thing Jay had ever seen.

  “I sure hope so,” Jay said grinning, before laying his head back on Sam’s chest.

  “Go back to sleep. It’s gonna be another long day tomorrow.”

  Jay curled himself tighter around Sam and closed his eyes. Sam smelled like a warm summer day and leather, with a tang of something uniquely him that Jay couldn’t name other than “Sam”. It filled Jay’s nostrils, crowding out the bleak hospital odors. The presence of his man flooded Jay’s senses as he fell asleep.

  About the Author

  Under a prickly, cynical surface Lou Harper is an incorrigible romantic. Her love affair with the written word started at a tender age. There was never a time when stories weren’t romping around in her head. She is currently embroiled in a ruinous romance with adjectives. In her free time Lou stalks deviant words and feral narratives.

  Lou’s favorite animal is the hedgehog. She likes nature, books, movies, photography, and good food. She has a temper and mood swings.

  Lou has misspent most of her life in parts of Europe and the US, but is now firmly settled in Los Angeles and worships the sun. However, she thinks the ocean smells funny. Lou is a loner, a misfit, and a happy drunk.

  louharper.blogspot.com

  www.louharper.com

  Can two men let go of the past in order to find their future together?

  Ties that Bind

  © 2011 SE Jakes

  Men of Honor, Book 3

  When helo pilot Glen Rhodes flies Navy SEALs into the most dangerous places on earth, he has nerves of steel. Since his trusted Dom’s death three years ago, though, the thought of submitting makes him panic.

  Determined to move on and long past ready to release the adrenaline rush from his job, Glen returns to home ground—and to the bar he hasn’t had the heart to enter for three long years. There, he meets a man who seems to fit naturally into the void.

  Derek Mann has suffered his own losses, and he isn’t looking for permanent. Easy conquests don’t interest him, either. One look at Glen’s proud military bearing and sad eyes tells him that he has a challenge on his hands. And that winning Glen’s trust will unleash something wild and beautiful.

  The plan is to tread lightly. But from the first touch of skin on skin, there’s no holding back…except when it comes to their deepest emotions. A Christmas Eve crisis pushes them both to their limits, leaving them no choice but to let go of the past...or let it pull them apart.

  Warning: Contains rough language, rougher sex and warriors who fall hard for one another.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Ties that Bind:

  Glen’s place was done in browns and beiges and blues—clean and calming, with comfortable-looking furniture and a modern kitchen that looked like it was barely used.

  With red still staining his cheeks, Glen locked the door behind them and pressed buttons on the buzzing alarms.

  “Can I get you anything?” Glen asked as he toed his shoes off.

  “Water would be fine.”

  Glen grabbed a bottle from the fridge, took the time to pour it in a glass with ice, and Derek couldn’t tell if it was manners or the man stalling or a combination. When Glen handed it to him, Derek took a sip and then asked, “What do you need from me, Glen?”

  The boy shot him a look, the surprise obvious, and that was good. He was up to this.

  “I, ah…fuck.” Glen pressed a palm to his forehead. “I don’t know. I like to be tied down. Hard. But—”

  It was too soon—Derek would need to earn that trust. Coming into the club tonight had drained Glen, and it was up to Derek to make sure he didn’t fall apart sooner than he was ready to. “Why don’t you let me decide?”

  “What if I can’t do what you want?”

  “It won’t be more than you can take. It won’t be a scene. You’ll get what you need.”

  It took a few minutes for him to nod yes. Derek sat in one of the leather chairs, glass in hand. “Strip for me.”

  Glen barely hesitated, then stripped his shirt and his jeans, a defiant look in his eyes.

  He wouldn’t go down on his knees into position—and Derek wasn’t going to make him. Not to prove a point, anyway. Instead, he took the time to appreciate Glen’s sculpted, lean body, the thick, jutting cock belying any protests the boy might make. He spread his own legs and let Glen’s eyes roam his body—there was no missing the swell of his cock through his pants, despite the tight leather. “Like what you see?”

  Glen nodded slowly, began to stroke himself without breaking Derek’s gaze. Derek finished his water, put the glass down and walked to the boy, not telling him to stop his stroking.

  “Beautiful.” He ran a hand over the tattoos that covered him, not surprised when Glen reached out with his free hand and pulled him in for a kiss. Glen’s hand wound in his hair, holding him closer, definitely taking charge, and Derek allowed it, because the boy knew how to kiss. Glen tasted like heat and sin. And then Derek changed the rhythm when he put his hand on the back of Glen’s neck and began fucking his mouth with his tongue, taking back all the control, and Glen opened his mouth wider, acquiescing.

  Glen would enjoy submitting far more than he was willing to admit. The boy would have to have nerves of steel to fly combat missions—it took equal strength to submit. Glen was a tough-ass son of a bitch. Just what Derek wanted, someone to push back, to challenge him. He wanted that spark, the fight, which made working for the submission that much more satisf
ying.

  When Derek pulled back, he asked, “You want to keep trying to scare me away by being defiant or are you going to let me take over now and fuck that tight ass any way I want to?”

  Glen drew in a stuttered breath and his body trembled. “I haven’t…submitted—or bottomed—in a long time.”

  “Since John?”

  “A year after John died, I tried but…” He was holding it together well but he seemed horrified at the small amount of emotion he was showing. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”

  “Because you need to.” Derek stroked his biceps, still tasting the man on his tongue. “Show me where your bed is.”

  Glen did, and Derek followed him into the bedroom with the king-sized bed covered in a gray comforter and a headboard definitely meant for tying someone up to.

  Derek could give Glen the same effect just as well with a command. He pushed the younger man into bed after pulling the covers down, and Glen sat against the pillows, looking uncertain.

  Derek stripped his own shirt and knelt between Glen’s legs. The boy looked confused when Derek stroked him and then licked a path along his abs and inner thighs.

  “Derek?”

  “Yes, Glen.”

  “I thought…”

  “Don’t think.” With that, he took Glen’s cock deep in his mouth, sucking hard, loving the way the boy’s body arched in surprise.

  He’ll bend for them. But they may break over him…

  Out of Focus

  © 2011 L.A. Witt

  For twelve years, Dom lovers Ryan “Angel” Morgan and Dante James have run a successful photography business, and satisfied their need for a submissive with the occasional sizzling three-way. On a wedding job, they both zero in on the bride’s beautiful brother, but as professionals, they keep their attraction on the down-low—for now.

  Jordan Steele has no trouble establishing mastery over his stallions. When he hires Angel and Dante to shoot promotional photos for his stable, though, there’s something about them that calls to his inner submissive. After a little flirtation and a photo session that gets almost too hot to handle, Angel and Dante are happy to show him the ropes. And the whip.