by Mia Watts
Mason had grown breathless. Dill felt the same surprising lack of oxygen.
“Show me,” Dill rasped.
Mason reached down with his right hand and slapped his cock, before gripping his thigh. Dill watched the hypnotic bob of the other man’s penis. The tip moistened with pre-cum.
“You made me hard with all your fuckity fuck fucking. You ought to finish it,” Mason challenged.
“Does an arrest mean anything to you?”
“No one’s looking. The rain has them dodging puddles and finding cover. What are you afraid of?” Mason mocked.
He let go of his pants and slapped his cock again, reached in the zipper slot and pulled out his balls to rest on the fabric. They were puckered and tight.
“Fu-uck,” Dill said, drawing out the word with true appreciation for the weeping dick.
Another slap and a droplet hit Mason’s thigh, instantly darkening the cargo pants he wore. Dill stretched across, stroking the length of his dick with his knuckles. The swiping a finger over the top, he brought it back to his lips for a taste.
Mason fisted himself. “Suck your fingers for me.”
“I’ll do one better.” Dill twisted, took Mason’s free hand and slipped two fingers into his mouth. Salty and calloused, he nonetheless imagined they were Mason’s cock and he sucked up and down their blunt length.
Mason swore, pumped into his fist while he fixated on Dill’s mouth with the fervor of a religious experience. Mason already looked like he was close, so when he hooked his fingers in Dill’s cheek to drag him over, Dill moved easily, leaning over the console to ready himself for Mason’s spray.
He flicked his tongue out, tasting Mason’s cockhead.
“Please,” Mason begged.
Dill did it again. “Fuck it, Mase. Fuck yourself.” He cupped Mason’s balls, rolling them gently. Wedging a finger and thumb into the zipper opening, Dill pinched the skin behind the orbs.
Mason shot. Dill pinched and twisted carefully. Cum hit Dill’s tongue, lips, face, the back of his throat.
He licked his lips, swallowing what he’d been given. “Is that it?” Dill taunted, continuing to play the role Mason seemed to need from him. He went down on him, taking Mason’s dick full into his mouth and sucking it like a straw. He popped off, wiped his cheeks on his coat sleeve.
Roughly cupping the now flaccid cock and balls in his hand, Dill gave them a squeeze and looked into Mason’s eyes. “Next time I see this cock, it had better be a private showing, and you’d better say ‘thank you, sir’ when I finish spanking your rod until it’s angry and red. Got it?”
Mason grabbed him, dragging him down for a desperate kiss.
“You’ve been a bad boy, Mason Haliday. I’m going to have to fucking teach you a lesson about how to treat your lovers.”
Excitement spiraled through Dill. He’d never role-played a dominant before. Didn’t know how it was done, but took his cues from Mason’s reactions. It seemed new to him too, and fuck if they didn’t both like it.
“Yeah. I’d like that,” Mason breathed.
“I can see that. For now, you’ll have to go the rest of the watch knowing that I’m hard as a rock for your ass and there’s nothing I’m going to let you do about it.”
“God,” Mason murmured, his eyes hot and huge. “There’s an alley over there. You can fuck me against the brick wall.”
“No. You’ve given me a sour case of blue balls, which is going to make me pissier by the moment. I’m hard, swollen, and horny as hell. By the time I come, I’m going to be planted so far up your ass that you’re gonna taste saltwater.”
“Holy shit, Dill.”
Mason’s cock had already regained some life. Dill smiled knowingly. He rubbed and fondled him until he was completely erect and the glazed look had re-entered his eyes. Then Dill gave him a sharp slap to the cock and sat back.
Mason moaned his complaint.
“Sit up and cover up. Your shit belongs to me through the duration of my assignment and I don’t share my shit.”
He was pleased to see Mason struggling to put away his package with shaking hands. Even happier when Mason squirmed from the hard-on Dill had left him with.
Despite the raging erection he was sporting, Dill felt pretty self-satisfied as he stared through the rain washed windows.
Chapter Eight
Dill leaned against the club wall, looking out over the parking lot. He sank into the shadows and let the rough brick wall snag his shirt. The weather had warmed since the last time he’d stood here. Like before, he waited for Mason’s arrival.
After the failed stakeout, they’d decided Mason needed to pick up his old routine. If they thought he’d given up the search for his attackers, maybe they’d come out of the woodwork for another nasty round.
Mason had said that it meant Dill couldn’t hang around him anymore. Dill had argued the point. He’d even tried the dominant track and gotten a fist in the jaw for it. But he’d seen the bulge in Mason’s cargos.
He figured when Mason got tired of jacking off to the memory, he’d come back. In the meantime, not pressuring Mason or crowding him, seemed the best compromise because he sure as hell wasn’t going to quit covering his ass if someone did make another attempt on his life.
Except it was midnight, and there’d been no sign of Mason. He glanced at his watch to be sure.
Yep, only three minutes since the last time I looked.
Dill pushed the keypad on his phone for Mason’s number. The line rang through to voice mail, and he frowned as he thought of all the things that could have gone wrong. He didn’t think Mason would avoid his call. It wasn’t a privilege Dill abused. When another ten minutes passed without seeing him and without a callback, Mason pushed himself off the wall and headed for his car.
Next he dialed Sage. “It’s me. Mason is a no-show. I’ve got a bad feeling.”
“I’ll meet you at his place.”
Short and to the point. Dill hung up and concentrated on taking the roads without breaking the speed limit like he wanted to. When he got there, the alley was dark. Not even the halogen lamps high on either side of the passageway were in service. If they’d been attached to the same source, he might have reasoned through them both being off. Since they weren’t, and Mason was a person of interest to two different parties, every nerve in Dill’s body was on the alert.
Sage hadn’t arrived yet. Dill got out and paced the far side of the street, keeping his eyes and ears trained on the black maw of alleyway.
He could be bleeding to death. What if they are attacking him now? Calm down. You’d hear something. No way will Mason go down without a fight. Bleeding is silent, though.
He’d crossed the road when Sage arrived, slammed the car into park, and jogged to walk with him. “Steady, Dill. Don’t go in stupid.”
Dill shoved him in annoyance, took a cautious skulk along one of the walls. Sage mirrored his movements on the opposite side. The alley gave them nothing.
Dill inched forward, keeping close to the wall, then skirting around a dumpster. Above, a faintly flickering blue light told him the TV was on at Mason’s.
Glass crunched under his shoes just beneath the darkened halogen. So it was busted on purpose, not blown out. He sent the thought to Sage, hoping he got it. Apparently he did, because he looked at Dill, then up, nodded before motioning him to continue at a slower pace.
Fuck slower. Mason could be in trouble.
The sound of a door clacking open and closed gave him only a moment’s pause before Dill surged forward, crossing the remaining distance to the metal staircase. Taking three steps at a time, he circled up, not stopping until he got to Mason’s door. This high a slight breeze moved it in and out of the jam, creating the sound he’d heard. Beyond, the TV flickered silently and all other lights were off.
He wanted to spring into the apartment to find him. Sage’s hand came down heavy on his shoulder.
“Don’t,” Sage warned in a winded whisper. “Might still
be inside.”
“I don’t care.”
“You will when they crack you over the head. Get a grip, or you’ll be useless to him.”
That made sense. Dill forced himself to calm down. Having taken a moment to collect his thoughts, form a plan of attack, he pushed the door open all the way with the toe of his shoe. It creaked noisily. Dill winced. If there had been any way to sneak up on the intruders before, they’d lost all possibility of it now.
He crouched and stepped inside, quickly pressing his back to the wall and waited for his eyes to adjust. Something whizzed by his head. Dill ducked, barely in time. The wall behind him resounded with a loud crack and Dill leaped forward, tackling the man with the flailing object.
They stumbled backward, hitting the ground. He was big, hard, long underneath Dill, and entirely familiar.
“Mase?”
“Dill? What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Saving your ass. Again,” Dill retorted. “I thought you’d been broken in on.”
“I was. I have them tied up in my bedroom. I thought I had some stragglers sneaking in late to the party,” Mason said.
The lights flared on. Sage stood over them with his hands on his hips. “You have them tied up in your bedroom? Kinky.”
Mason’s glance flicked to Sage, held for a second then came back to Dill. Dill cocked his eyebrow waiting for the usual reaction his brother got. Mason grinned, his eyes danced, seeming to know what Dill expected.
“The last time I said something about that you told me to fuck off, and you know where that got us,” Mason murmured.
“Oh, fucking hell!”
Dill rolled off Mason to see what Sage was on about.
“Get a room. Promise me you won’t do that in public again. And seriously, bro, if you’re going to go all Dom, invest in some leather because you are the preppiest Dom I’ve ever seen,” Sage complained, clutching his head. “I think I need to scrub my brain.”
Mason laughed. “I’ll buy him a leather and spiked ring for his equipment. Will that help?”
“Jesus.” Dill’s face felt hot and he took the next logical move, which was to leave. The bad guys were in Mason’s room, so that’s where he needed to go. “We have a job to do here perverts.”
“Does it involve blowing?” Sage asked.
“Fuck you.”
“You really want to start that up again? Here? Now? With Sage and a bunch of strangers watching?” Mason called to him.
The two laughed behind him. Dill got to the dividing curtain and whipped it aside. Hogtied and gagged, they looked uncomfortable and unconscious. “Do you know these guys?”
“No,” Mason answered, coming up to nudge one of them with his shoe.
He laced his fingers over the top of his bald scalp. Two flesh and one inked joining at the same spot looked eerie.
Mason sighed. “There’s something I should tell you.”
“Let’s hear it,” Sage said.
“I did some things when I was a kid. One of them was join a gang. They made leaving difficult but Diego tried to get jumped-in and I pulled the plug on it. Sometimes they come around to harass me. They pull shit like beat downs and breaking in and shit. But these guys? I’ve never seen them before. They aren’t from my old crew.”
Dill squatted down. He pulled up sleeves to check their wrists, tugged back their collars to show their shoulders. “Do you know if they’re gang stamped?”
“I checked. Figured my crew maybe got some brothers to mess me up. Nothin’.”
“I don’t suppose you asked for their identity?” Sage asked.
“Yeah. Path of least resistance, man. I got nothin’.” Mason folded his arms across his wide chest. Dill passingly thought he looked like a sexy Mr. Clean who’d been through hell, decorated, and spat back out again.
“No leads back to your gang pals,” Dill murmured. “What about the other attacks? Were they guys you knew?”
“I don’t know about the ones you froze, but the dudes from the parking lot weren’t any I’d met.”
“Staged?” Dill asked Sage.
“Sounds like it,” he agreed.
“You know what’s going on?” Mason asked.
“Clara Leon is running for a senate seat. She wants to find you and confirm the genetic proof of your identity. What if someone doesn’t want her to run? What if someone thinks killing you is the perfect way to scare her off?” Dill conjectured.
“Why not just kill her?” Mason wondered. “Seems like a lot of round about trouble to come after me when she’s the one they want to stop.”
“Because she’s in the press, and you’re…” Sage began.
“Nobody,” Mason finished. “I’m nobody anybody would miss. Except someone who’s looking for me.”
“And me,” Dill added quietly.
“Exactly,” Sage agreed. “She’s up against two others. Which one has more to lose?”
“What if it’s not tied to the senate seat, but her platform? She’s been actively pushing human rights in the media. Maybe she uncovered something that would fuck up a lot of people who don’t want to get fucked up.”
“Sounds promising, Dill.” Sage took out his cell and dialed three numbers. “This is Sage Harper with Harper Security. I’m at a third floor residence with a friend who halted a robbery in his home.” He paused, nodded his head. “That’s right. I’ll put him on the phone and he can give you the details. His name is Mason Haliday. Yeah, here ya go.” He handed his phone to Mason.
Mason took it and wandered across the apartment for privacy.
“You got into my files,” Sage said.
“Yeah.”
“I can fire you for that. Clara was a confidential client.”
“You won’t,” Dill predicted.
“No, I won’t but don’t do it again, or I will.”
“This was different. Like Joe,” Dill said, referencing Sage’s husband.
“I know. That’s why I’m not firing you now.”
“Thanks.”
“Yeah. Whatever.”
“Did you know about Mason’s history?” Dill asked.
Sage nodded. “It didn’t apply to this case. Anything he chooses to tell you about himself, is between the two of you.”
“This could have applied,” Dill noted.
“But it didn’t because I already knew Mason’s history, and the guys he hung with are pretty small time thugs. The parking lot could have been them, but there were too many and they didn’t use guns. It didn’t match their profile.”
“Would you have told me if it did?”
“Not unless it became necessary,” Sage admitted.
Dill smiled. “Thanks.”
“For keeping secrets from you?”
“For keeping his secrets for him.”
“Sure thing.” Sage bent over the three sprawled men. “He did quite a number on these guys. Maybe they’ll wake up by the time the police get here.”
Mason walked back, handing the cell to Sage. “They’ll be here in another few seconds. Dispatch said they were close.”
“Looks like we’re in for a long night of statements,” Sage said, sighing. “Excuse me a sec while I call Joe.”
Dill stood. “Are you hurt?” he whispered.
Mason closed the distance. “Nah, but I could pretend to be if you want to kiss things better.”
“Goddamn you’re losing gallons of blood by the second,” Dill teased.
“Pints,” Mason said, laughing.
“Most of its pouring from your cock.”
“God, yeah, my cock is killing me.”
“We should apply pressure,” Dill offered. He cupped Mason’s cock, enjoying the turgid length lining his palm. “This could be life threatening.”
“I’m feeling weaker by the second.”
“For fuck’s sake, get a room,” Sage complained.
Strobing lights bounced off the alley, circled through Mason’s studio and lapped the area again.
�
��Pick up where we leave off?” Mason asked.
“Count on it,” Dill murmured.
Mason dropped a quick kiss on his lips. It felt like nothing had distanced them. He hoped it wasn’t just the adrenaline rush affecting Mason. He really wanted it to be something more lasting and genuine than hormone run-off.
One thing’s for sure. He keeps me on my toes.
The sun was coming up as they left the police station. Mason’s eyes felt gritty and leaden, his body exhausted from the adrenaline rush and fight several hours earlier. Hell, he’d been on a high when he’d all but begged Dill to fuck him on the apartment floor. Looking back at it now, he didn’t think it was the smartest move he’d made. He’d just been relieved when Dill had shown up, and too tired of fighting off the three intruders to fight his feelings for the man who’d come to his rescue.
He figured that was an effeminate trait or something. He’d never admit to it, or Dill would think he’d gained a foothold. After the effort Mason had expended in convincing Dill he was nothing more than a convenient fuck, it would hurt like raging hell when Dill knew better and left him anyway.
But he’d kinda fucked that up when the whole grope and fondle bit. He made Mason feel light. Like none of the problems he had were as big as they seemed. Like he could face them all with Dill beside him and that was a dangerous thing to believe. It was myth. It was fog. A puff of a hope that led a man to the shoals of devastation.
He knew all this and yet his aching body wanted nothing more than to curl up with Dill and fall asleep expecting to be safe and cared for. The myth was a drug and right now, he wanted to take a draw on it.
Beside him, Dill yawned.
“We should hit the sack,” Mason said when he’d finished. He had no place to go that hadn’t been breached a couple of times now. The cabin? Would he be invited back there?
Mason slouched against the stair balustrade. He tucked his chin against the early morning chill. If he had hair, his head wouldn’t be so damn cold. He liked the look, but did Dill? Maybe he should think about growing it out again.
“You going to fight me on where we sack out?” Dill asked, turning his piercing blue gaze on him.
