by BA Tortuga
Uh-huh.
Right.
Duncan would rip Cowboy’s dick off. That alone gave him faith that Cowboy wouldn’t make a play. Dunc could get… huge. “Okay, give me the alcohol swab and get out. We got maybe three minutes for me to snuggle.”
“Are you letting him run again?” Cowboy started packing up, quick as you please.
“Nope. But I am going to let him think he’s free to.” He met those weird gray eyes of Cowboy’s. “He said my name.”
“Yeah?” He got a grin, quick and real. “Fuckin’ A. I’m out of here, friend.”
MJ was starting to shift, to move around, moan. Hell, the way he was bruised and shit meant he had to be hurting still. MJ had been running on pure adrenaline, he’d bet.
“Go.” That would make him very happy. Cowboy gone. MJ all his. He stroked the ugly black hair off MJ’s forehead. Poor baby was sweating like a whore in church.
MJ’s eyes were shifting under his lids, mouth moving, muttering.
“Shh. I got you, Precious. Right here. Jesus, I missed you.” He was a sap, he knew it.
MJ’s hand slid up his body, palm covering his tattoo, the one that matched the one on MJ’s hip.
Christ. Oh, yes. Oh, please. He was already tired of pretending he didn’t know what he knew. Already tired of biting off endearments and names. When those bright blue eyes blinked open, though, they were just as suspicious and confused as before.
A smattering of Spanish poured out, and then MJ sat up, rolling his shoulders, grabbing his clothes.
“Espera.” Wait. He didn’t want MJ to disappear. “Hold up, man. It’s okay. You just had a little nap.”
“I don’t nap.” He got a look, then a grin. “Of course, I don’t get blown that way often either.”
“Exactly.” Sonny grinned into those eyes, the one thing that looked the same. “I usually don’t make those… sounds. Don’t usually kiss either.”
“I kn….” MJ stopped, frowned a little. “What you doin’ in town, vato?”
“Me? I’m here with a friend. He’s looking for some mystical tequila barrel.” Just in case MJ saw Cowboy….
“Ah. I can drink a little of that.” MJ rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s a couple of decent bars.”
“Yeah? Cool. He was getting busy with his squeeze, so I went looking for fun. Found you.” He reached out, rubbing MJ’s neck, needing to soothe.
“You took a chance. This isn’t the place to look for your kind of trouble.”
“I had a feeling about you, amigo.” He had a lot of feelings about MJ. Like the urge to whack him over the head caveman style and drag him off.
His fingers traced the ink on MJ’s shoulder, and MJ stood, pulled away. “Don’t touch that, man.”
Sonny’s heart set up a hard rhythm. “Why not?”
“I…. It’s…. Mine. That one’s mine. Nobody touches it.”
Eyes squeezing shut for a moment, Sonny nodded. “Sure. Okay. Don’t run off because of it. We can have sponge cake or something.”
“Sponge cake.” MJ rolled his eyes a little, but grinned. “I don’t know about you, vato, but this town is getting really small.”
“Yeah? Where you thinking of going? They got tequila?” Sonny grinned. “I bet you’re more a Ding Dong man than a sponge cake one.”
MJ tilted his head, licked his lips. “Chocolate, right?” At his nod, MJ moaned.
“You know it. Been a while since you had some Americano chocolate, huh?” Been too long since he’d seen MJ fellate a cupcake.
“I…. Yeah.” MJ rubbed the back of his neck again, looking like he was about to lose it.
Sonny wanted to tackle the man and tell him it would be okay. Instead, he leaned over and kissed the place where shoulder met neck. “You know, I’m all for doing it again.”
“Yeah?” MJ turned, shivering. “I can wait to skip town for another half an hour.”
“We might make it in twenty. You’re nuclear hot, man.” The key to MJ had always been not letting him think. Rolling to one side, Sonny arched, spread. “I’ll even let you do me.”
Oh, now. Listen to that moan. That look climbed up his body, laser focus all on him.
“Sound good?” He bit off the “Precious,” knowing it was too early for pet names.
“I could climb you for days.” MJ’s hands landed on his ankles, started moving up his legs.
“I can live with that. We can head out tonight, find a place with a little beach house….” See him. See him move fast. Just like always.
“It’s tempting, but I’m on the road, vato. I’m in the shit.”
Sonny tried to make the shrug casual, even as he reached for his cock, pulling at it a little. “Who isn’t? Tequila isn’t the only reason I’m in Mexico.”
“No?” MJ’s eyes were on his cock, swollen lips parted a little. Those hands slid up his legs, eyes going all heavy-lidded. MJ wanted, he could tell. MJ wanted to just take him and run.
He wanted that too. Boom, baby. Now. He made himself stay patient. “Uh-huh. Ain’t no one here who ain’t hiding from something.” He pushed his thumb against the slit of his cock, making his hips roll.
“Yeah.” MJ leaned down, stubbly cheek rasping on his prick. “I know that smell….”
His free hand slid around the back of MJ’s head. “Get me wet, huh?”
“Uh-huh….” No thinking, Precious. You’re not ready yet.
Sonny let his hand fall away, let MJ have his cock, his balls, which ached like mad. He needed that touch. Now.
MJ leaned down, lips on his balls, eyes closed. Soft sounds were escaping his Precious, things he didn’t think MJ even heard. Shifting, he got that mouth moving, got MJ giving him a tongue bath that wouldn’t quit. Shit, he coulda cried, it felt so right, so fucking perfect. MJ licked and sucked, that focus everything he needed. Fuck. Fuck, they’d tried to take this from him.
They hadn’t, though. MJ knew him. Knew his smell and his nickname and his sensitive spots. All he had to do was dig deeper, get MJ to remember everything.
’Course, right now, all he wanted was to be deep inside that hot ass.
MJ nuzzled in, biting right at the base of his cock.
“Fuck!” Slapping a hand over his mouth, Sonny stifled the cries that were threatening to get too damned loud.
Those thumbs pushed into his ass, stretching him, filling him right up.
His breath hitched, his hips punching the air. His cock bounced on his belly. “Jesus, Pre—M—Jaime. Come on!”
Jaime. Christ.
“I know how you smell. How the fuck do I know that?” MJ muscled up between his legs even as he asked, cock bumping his hole.
“Just go with it.” He grinned, feeling a little wild, like he might lose it any moment. “Gimme. I need that, Precious.”
It slipped out, but he just didn’t give a shit.
“Precious….” MJ’s eyes rolled a little bit, that cock pushing in hard enough to burn.
It spread him, stretched him, reminding him that he hadn’t even played alone since MJ had been gone. His belly quivered, his cock throbbing, and Sonny had to breathe hard to relax, let MJ in.
“Uh-huh. You just are.” Always had been.
“I…. Fuck. Fuck. I….” Those blue eyes looked weird with the black hair. Then MJ’s lips twisted and he started fucking. Hard.
He wrapped his legs up around MJ’s hips, humping, needing. He lost everything but the urgency.
MJ fucked him like there was no tomorrow, just slamming into him again and again.
There was going to be a goddamned tomorrow if he had to use every fucking opiate in Mexico to keep MJ with him. He wouldn’t have to, though. Not with the way the man needed him. One hand wrapped around his cock, working hard, thumb like iron on the tip. The other hand landed on his throat, pushing hard. “Sorry, Sunshine. I have to go.”
Those hips just kept fucking him.
“No….” He could barely gasp it out, his vision clouding over, but he was dam
ned if he was going to let MJ go. He was…. Fuck. His hands scrabbled at MJ’s arms, digging in.
“Shh. Shh, come on. It’ll feel good, then you’ll nap. How come I know you?” MJ was losing it. God damn it.
Sonny’s mouth opened, his cock throbbing, his balls so tight they were going to disappear into his body. Then everything popped, just like the cork on a champagne bottle, and Sonny came and came and came. Until he passed right out.
Damn it.
Chapter Eight
FUCK HIM.
Fuck him.
Fuck him.
Jaime found a passport that worked and walked up to the ticket counter, bought a ticket to Jamaica.
It was time to get the hell out of Dodge.
He didn’t know why, but he had a sudden urge to go to Montego Bay.
Yeah. That would be cool.
Ocean. Bananas.
He was finally starting to relax, finally deciding what color he was going to dye his hair, when he saw the guy. Right there in his periphery. The big guy who’d rocked his world.
No. No way.
No fucking way.
He headed down to where the little pod of tourists was, keeping low.
Every move he made, the big guy tracked him, following just close enough to keep tabs.
What the fuck was this?
He slipped through another crowd, then another. That big man could move.
He made it through security, figuring that would be it. You needed a boarding pass for that. But when he looked back, Sonny was pushing out of the line of sunburned tourists putting their shoes back on.
Fuck.
Fuck.
He checked the clock. He had half an hour before he boarded. Half an hour. This airport wasn’t that big.
When the big guy got close enough, Jaime could see the dark bruises on the long, tanned throat. He’d done that. He’d put those there.
It was fucking hot.
He got to his gate, sat. The big fucker couldn’t jump him. It was a fucking airport. There was no way they were going to the same place.
Right?
Right.
Except that big and hot and fuzzy came and sat right next to him, legs stretching out for at least a mile in front of their seats. “Running away, man?”
“Qué?” He went for stupid Latino.
One dark eyebrow rose to the band of the ball cap the guy wore. “No eres estupido… vato.” The vato came out in maybe eight syllables, the drawl so drawn out it made him wince.
“What do you want?” See him. See him go for blunt.
“You. I want you, Precious. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.” That? That was absolute unshakable truth. He could tell.
“You don’t know me.” Hell, he didn’t know him.
He got a long, considering look. “Actually, I do. I know, for instance, that you’re not gonna get on that plane.”
“I am. I have a ticket. Montego Bay.”
Asshole.
“Mmm. Montego Bay. Some good food there. There’s even a little grocery store that sells Ding Dongs.” The smile made his belly warm, deep inside, and that was bad. Right?
“Bananas.” That was what he wanted. Bananas.
“With gravy.” One big hand landed on his thigh, just for a moment. Warm. So warm.
Those fucked-up warning bells went off in his head, shrill. “I don’t want you to know me. I want you to be a good guy, okay?”
“I am. I am solidly against the bad guys, Precious. I promise.”
God, he wanted to believe that. But he wasn’t sure there was any such animal. “If you know me, then you knew where they had me?”
“No.” Sonny sighed, rolling his head on his neck. “I knew they had you. I knew and I looked and fucking looked, man. Wasn’t ’til you broke out that I could pinpoint where you were.”
Okay.
Okay, that made sense.
Of course, he wasn’t in the same place.
Right?
Shit.
“I had to get out. Shit was going down.” He wasn’t going back in either. He wasn’t going to let them hurt him. He was just getting back to mobile.
“I’ll kill them if I can.” That should have made him panicky. It didn’t.
“Were we friends?” He thought he could have been this man’s friend, once. Not now, but once.
“We’re better than that.” That hand squeezed his leg, making his cock twitch.
“Not anymore. If you knew me, you don’t now. I’m a dead man, a ghost.” Something in his head started ringing. A ghost. Less than dead. He was a ghost.
“No.” Sonny turned to face him, leaning close enough that Jaime could feel his breath. “You’re not a ghost. You’re mine.”
“No. I’m a dead man.” Somewhere in him, he heard his own voice.
That’s right. We go. We get supplies. We find them and kill those bastards that hurt us. We kill them, then it’s all over.
“Did you feel dead yesterday?” Sonny’s fingers were walking up his leg, one by one.
“Fuck, no.” He’d never felt so fucking alive. Hell, he’d been on fire. “How’s your throat, Sunshine?”
“Why don’t you come with me and see? You can test it from the inside out.”
Jesus. He glanced around, making sure no one had heard or understood. Tempting. So tempting.
“I board in… fifteen minutes.”
“That’s plenty of time. Hell, skip the boarding. You won’t fly anyway.” That was the second time Sonny had said that.
“I have a ticket. I’m going to go to Jamaica.” Asshole.
“Sure. You do that, Precious.” Leaning back in the tiny chair, Sonny crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll just wait right here.”
“Fuck you. Have fun.” Asshole.
He stood and headed for the bathroom, washed his face, got his shit together. Wait right there.
Motherfucker.
He stayed away until he heard the little mamacita call for boarding. Okay.
Okay. Out of old Mexico. Out of here. Away from tall, bald, and sunny.
He handed the señorita the ticket, headed down the Jetway, whistling, feeling like it was about time to find some sun, get his shit together, and….
There was the little oval door.
His steps stuttered. Little oval door with a lock on a big tin can.
Rotting.
She was rotting.
“Stop it.”
Jaime forced himself to step forward, into the airplane. That’s right. Walk in.
Nod to the stewardess.
Turn the….
Rotting. She was in there rotting, and he could smell it. Smell it everywhere, and there wasn’t anywhere to avoid it, nowhere. Death and rot and maggots and piss and….
His back slammed into something hard, and he grunted, trying to clear his head.
“Señor?”
“Don’t fucking touch me.” He backed away, things clutching at his clothes, dragging at him.
“Señor, por favor. Please. You are ill?” A little dark-haired girl swam into his view, round face creased with concern. Her hands hovered over his arm, but she didn’t touch. Her fear was physical.
“Yeah. Sí. Sí, lo siento. Lo siento mucho.” He headed back up the Jetway, back into the airport with the big windows. The open spaces. The fresh air.
Three feet away from the priority boarding lane, Sonny stood by with his hands in his pockets. Smiling.
“Fucker.” He took six steps over and decked that nasty son of a bitch in the jaw.
Hard.
God, that felt good.
Sonny’s head snapped back, and the little girl working the gate started hollering and waving her arms. Sonny grunted, grabbing his fist when he would have swung again.
“You want a piece of me, Precious? Let’s take it outside before security tosses us in a strip-search room.”
“I’m going to fucking kick your ass so hard you’ll shit out of your ears.”
Ou
tside.
He didn’t know what this man had done to him, but it had to be Sonny’s fault.
“Well, come on, then. I’m all about some foreplay.”
Security was coming at them, but those long legs ate up distance, and they made it back through to the ticketing area before the uniforms caught up with them.
“What did you do to me?” Everything in him was shaking.
“I didn’t do anything.” They got to the parking lot, and Sonny turned on him, one big fist doubling him over.
Fuck.
The world went bright white, and he launched himself at the big fucker, fists slamming the bastard’s midsection.
He really needed to fight with shorter men.
“Oof.” The sound came out in a rush, an explosion of pained grunt. Then they were on the ground, vicious blows slamming into his ribs and kidneys.
Shit. Shit. Things that had been healing were screaming, and he went from fighting to fighting to escape. He didn’t want to piss blood or have his balls turn purple again.
He almost wiggled loose, but Sonny held him down, heavy weight just resting on him. “Stop. Stop now. It’s okay.”
No. No, he wasn’t feeling anywhere fucking near okay.
His gun was in his checked baggage.
On the plane.
“Stop.” It wasn’t the command, and it wasn’t the weight pressing him to the asphalt. It was the feel of Sonny’s lips on his throat that stilled him.
His lips opened, closed. “I have to get out of here.”
“Then come with me.”
Jesus. What was with this guy? Who was he?
“If you are one of the good ones, I can’t. If you’re not, I won’t.” He coughed, grunting as something creaked inside.
“Shit. Shit, Precious. I need to—come on. Come on and let me look at your ribs and shit.” Look at those eyes. Dark with worry for him.
“I can’t. I can’t fucking handle this. I….” He wanted to go to fucking Montego Bay.
“Yes, you can. You’re the strongest motherfucker I know.” Sonny rolled off him and pulled him to his feet. “Let me show you.”
“Boys, you two just ain’t good at not drawing attention, are y’all? Them federales are comin’. Want a ride?” He looked over at a big-assed dualie. He’d seen….
“At the bar.”
