Jaeger needed to hurt something. Someone. His killer instincts chafed in the enclosed environment of the cabin and clawed at him. Maybe after a day or two, they could leave the safety of the four walls, hike the small, narrow trails, and get fresh air. They were stuck there for the next thirty days.
“Marshal?” Wren’s voice brought Jaeger from his musings. “Can I go ahead and make us some dinner, if that’s okay with you?”
“Yeah, sure kid. There’s plenty in the deep freezer and fresh stuff in the large cooler we brought. I’m going to sit at the computers for a bit.” With those last words, Jaeger disappeared to the command room.
“Sure, Marshal, I’ll unpack too.”
CHAPTER FOUR
WREN SAT temporarily transfixed and perplexed by Jaeger’s audacity. He expected Wren to grovel and be eternally grateful for keeping him safe from his deadly family, but Wren had other ideas. Since when did grateful equate with slave labor? Just because Wren volunteered to cook didn’t mean he’d do everything.
Wren’s muscles seized up, and a tension migraine began to set in with all the worry he’d carried for the last few weeks. Rubbing his temples to alleviate the stress didn’t help. He’d need food and his migraine medicine if he hoped for any relief. He should feel safe―and to a point he did―but his nerves were beginning to unravel, and the response was a migraine. It was an affliction he’d dealt with since childhood, and it became progressively worse the deeper he found himself entrenched in the family business.
And… it didn’t help that he was drawn to Jaeger, not only his features―the rugged good looks, the miles of thick corded muscle—but to the power that radiated from him. Jaeger was all man, and in any other circumstance, Wren would roll over, bare his belly, and beg to be fucked. Hell, he might still do it if he couldn’t control his wayward libido.
His sexual preference might have been the catalyst for the start of the Rincón-Chino family feud. No, that wasn’t entirely true. The Rincón Family had been in business for many years, and Wren’s part was small potatoes compared to what the cartel was really all about.
And Wren could no longer turn a blind eye to the crimes of his uncle and his henchmen—the many people they extorted money from or sold drugs to. Tío Juan was authoritative, and everyone did his bidding.
Wren began the tedious task of unpacking the cooler and then searched the freezer for something quick yet hearty. He chose ground turkey and found beans and canned tomatoes in the pantry. Chili with homemade corn bread would be on the evening’s menu. Good thing he learned to cook at his mother’s knee.
Graciela Rincón liked to cook and kept a well-organized home. In retrospect Wren realized his mother had shielded him from his father’s part in his uncle’s business. Seamus O’Riley chose to live a short, violent life. Wren loved his father, but he didn’t understand him.
With no cell phone or radio, Wren turned on the television for background noise. He quickly flipped through the channels and realized cable was nonexistent. But he found a large collection of DVDs, stacked neatly and in genre order, when he opened the cabinet under the TV. So he started a semiromantic flick and retrieved his meds from the bedroom and then went back to the kitchen.
He snatched another cup of coffee and downed his pill. Then he filled the porcelain sink with hot water and submerged two packets of ground turkey to thaw while he chopped an onion and made some corn bread. If he was lucky, the headache would ease in a matter of minutes. The stimulation of double caffeine should do the trick.
Soon delicious aromas wafted throughout the cabin and drew Jaeger from his computer cave.
“Smells good. What’s cooking?” Jaeger leaned over Wren’s shoulder and sniffed at the pan on the stove. Wren felt the heat of Jaeger’s body traverse his back, and the smell of musk tickled his nose. He could get lost in that fragrance.
“I’m making chili and corn bread. That okay?” Wren’s desire to lean back into Jaeger’s muscled chest overrode his sensibilities, and Wren fought to control himself. But he relished the feel of another man’s body against his.
Wren’s last affair had ended badly, with shouts, tears and eventually…. Wren didn’t want to think of that fateful day. Maybe not ever again. But he knew that, in due time, he’d have to. His family had not only made it impossible for him to find love, but their warped sense of duty and control had brought him to the defining moment in his life, and he would testify and help make them guests of the United States penal system.
While Wren was lost in his thoughts, Jaeger moved away from him, to the wooden cabinet to retrieve bowls and plates. Wren brought the chili pot to the small wooden table and placed it on a dish towel. As Jaeger served them, Wren retrieved the corn bread and slathered it with butter.
They enjoyed the meal and filled their bellies. The only sounds were Jaeger’s groans of approval, and Wren thought about what it would be like to hear those sounds in the throes of passion―preferably while Jaeger fucked him draped over the table.
After three bowls Jaeger stood and retreated to the comm room. “Thanks for dinner.”
Well, at least he liked the food.
JAEGER STRODE to the communications room and locked the door behind him. He knew it was a dick move to leave Wren with barely a grunted thank-you, but he needed to monitor the perimeter and make sure nothing lurked in the woods.
He needed to keep Wren O’Riley safe, and he also needed to get the hell out of Dodge because his dick had decided to betray him and go ramrod straight. Jaeger’s overriding thought was to shove Wren over the table, yank down his jeans to expose his ass, and fuck his tiny hole. But that was not what he signed up for. Fucking a witness was frowned upon, at the very least. Jaeger was sure it was written somewhere in the manual.
The sun had already set, and the sky was bright with the twinkle of stars and the luminescent moon over the treetops. It wasn’t the same as being outside, but he could see clearly through the monitors. Additionally the infrared cameras picked up every little movement in the woods. Small animals scurried about but didn’t set off the alarms.
He removed his gun from the back of his waistband, adjusted himself, and sat in the uncomfortable cracked leather swivel chair and made contact with SAC Chase. His boss would know that they had arrived at their destination and were ensconced safely in the house for the next month or until Jaeger received further orders.
But his wayward dick would not subside. Thoughts of Wren O’Riley filtered through his brain and both heads wanted a piece of him. He needed the little head to stop, so he opened his legs, leaned back, unbuttoned his jeans, and drew down the zipper. The click of the enclosure seemed to take forever until his black briefs were exposed and the top of his dick peeked out, the tip glistening with precum. He fished out his cock and tucked the briefs under his swollen balls.
The cool air did nothing to soothe his stiff cock. It merely sent shivers down his spine and ramped up his libido. Jaeger ran his thumb over the crown and smeared the translucent liquid around the swollen bulb. More precum seeped out, creating a fine film along his cock and giving him the lubrication he needed to jerk himself off. He slowly slid his hand up and down and savored the feeling.
When he cupped his balls with his other hand, Jaeger imagined Wren’s mouth lapping at the orbs and then working his way up Jaeger’s cock and engulfing the rod. Jaeger moved his hips up and off the edge of the chair and back down again as he pumped his hand. He maintained a tight grip and squeezed as he tugged. His breathing changed into low moans and rapid pants. Jaeger rolled his balls, and the fine, soft hairs tickled his palm.
He reached back and ran the rough pad of his finger along his taint to loosen the muscle and then inserted the tip of the digit. That was all it took. Finger inserted in his own ass, Jaeger pumped his dick through his tight fist as the tingle began at the base of his spine. His balls churned and his dick swelled―then erupted. Cum shot from the tip. It filled his hand, and some landed on his belly.
Jaeger bit dow
n on his lower lip to keep from shouting into the darkened room. The only light came from the screens of the computers. His heart raced, and his breath was ragged. Even after he came, his dick remained half-hard―something he expected he might have to deal with in such close quarters with Wren O’Riley.
He was an enigma. Jaeger needed to read the whole confidential file and then ask questions. He required answers if he planned to keep Wren protected and alive. Although fucking Wren had physical appeal, the complications held little.
Jaeger reached for some tissues and cleaned himself. When he tucked himself back into his jeans, he noticed his spent seed had gotten on his leather band, so he removed it from his wrist. The scar appeared more jagged and raw than usual. Jaeger had no idea if anyone else in his biological family carried the mark or if it meant anything. He learned long before that he was adopted, so he had no point of reference.
He only knew that his dreams—or nightmares—led him to a slumber so deep that he never remembered faces, dialogue, or action. But he woke in a cold sweat with his scar burning and with the raw desire to kill.
Jaeger kept it covered because it was an identifying mark. A simple leather band seemed more innocuous than the rare scar. He fiddled with the leather and once again stared at the screens. Since night was upon them, silhouettes dotted the views and were only illuminated when something larger than a rabbit appeared. Only something large would set off the alarms, and Jaeger better not see any. If he did, there would be trouble.
Jaeger peered at the small clock on the screen. He’d been sitting for close to four hours, and it was after midnight. Nothing stirred, so he decided to call it a night. The alarms were set, and if anything unusual occurred, the deafening sound would alert him and possibly the dead.
Gun in hand Jaeger dragged himself toward his room and stopped at Wren’s door, which he had left ajar. Jaeger was awestruck by the sight before him. The small lamp on the side table illuminated Wren, who lay atop the granny-square afghan, naked as the day he was born. Jaeger’s mind fought a hopeless battle. He knew the right thing to do was to keep walking, but the sexy feast that lay before him called to his primal side.
Wren’s olive complexion framed the tautest ass Jaeger had ever seen. Sinewy muscles traversed his back, ending at the swell of his buttocks, which were slightly paler than the rest of his body, and then crossed the mounds to long legs covered in dark hair. His right leg, drawn up and over, exposed his balls as they nestled against the afghan. The tip of his dick also peeked out under his groin.
Jaeger’s mouth went dry, and his dick went ramrod straight. Again. What the hell was up with his wayward libido and that damn kid? He was the scum of the earth. He worked for a family—a family who stole, sold drugs, and killed with little regard for others except to line their own pockets. And it was Jaeger’s job to protect and deliver, not to fuck. Entanglements were not part of the job.
Jaeger quietly moved away from the door and strode down the hall to his room. He was wound tight, and he needed sleep—to lie down and temporarily shut his brain off. He entered his room, placed his weapon on the night stand, and walked into the en suite. He couldn’t piss with a dick that stood at full mast, so he brushed his teeth and exited the bathroom.
He rubbed his wrist and then his jean-covered dick. Both were beyond relief. Jaeger needed to concentrate and not be distracted by the lovely Venezuelan with the Mexican-cartel family and do what he was born to do. Kill. And if Mr. Wren O’Riley got caught in the cross hairs, then so be it.
CHAPTER FIVE
JAEGER SPENT his days in front of either the computer screens or his files while Wren paced the floors, read from the vast array of books on the shelf in the living space, or thought so hard that his brain hurt. They had little contact, except for the occasional grunt of approval from Jaeger at a meal, or a question from Wren’s file when Jaeger needed clarification.
“So give me the full scoop on your family, Wren. Your file gives me the facts, but I always find that asking questions and getting a story can reveal much more.” Jaeger held a cup of java in his hand and perched his denim-clad legs on the dark oak coffee table.
“Your father, Seamus O’Riley, married Graciela Rincón, sister to the head of the Rincón Family. How did they meet?”
Wren took the comfy chair by the fireplace and curled his legs underneath him.
“They met in Mexico City. My mom was shopping with friends for the day. Their chaperones had let the girls go into a café by themselves for café con leche and pastries, and my dad approached their table. He said he was immediately captivated by my mom.” Wren shrugged his shoulders, and a smile crossed his lips at the thought of his mother as a giddy young girl, having her heart stolen by a brash Irishman. “He made himself comfortable, chatted the girls up, and pretty much insinuated himself into their lives. So much so that he secured an ‘introduction’ to my uncle the very next day.” Wren made air quotes when he said introduction.
“I take it your mother was sheltered?”
“Very much so.” Wren replied with little hesitation. “My uncle was already the head of the family as my grandparents were long since deceased, and although my mother was nineteen, her life truly was not her own. My dad courted her. He was the same age as my uncle, so a little older, and within the year, he married my mom. I came a year later.”
Wren looked up at Jaeger, who looked comfortable in his own skin, although he made Wren quake in his. Wren found Jaeger attractive, even with his brash attitude, and his attitude was the first feature he noticed about Jaeger―the way he carried himself with confidence, as though he owned the world. The next thing Wren noticed were his amaretto-colored eyes. They were a golden brown with tinges of yellow. Wren could get lost in the depths of them and allow Jaeger to carry him away. It had been quite a while since another man had touched Wren, since a hard body had draped over his back, pounded into him, and given him cataclysmic release. Not since….
Wren needed to stop thinking about that fateful day and what transpired in the days before it. Soon he’d testify about the incident and anything else the federal court required. If he survived he would be permitted to start anew and create a life for himself with his mother in Spain.
“Why do I get the feeling there’s more to the story than what you are telling me?” Jaeger asked.
“I’m answering the questions that you’re asking. Nothing more, nothing less.” Wren was not prepared to tell Jaeger the full load of his life, and since Jaeger didn’t ask, he didn’t offer.
“But,” Wren continued, “the chance meeting of my mother was a setup. I found out years later that my father’s family wanted to get into bed, as they say, with my mother’s family, so Seamus knew exactly who she was and where she’d be. My father may have been ruthless, but he could turn on the charm at the drop of a hat with friend or foe, and he loved my mother dearly. I never heard him raise his voice to her, and she wanted for nothing. Unfortunately her trips, baubles, whatever, were bought with blood money.”
“It must have been very hard growing up in that environment.” Wren noticed Jaeger fidgeted with his leather band and appeared to be not only interested, but concerned.
“I’m not sure if I would call it hard, per se.” Wren shifted in the oversized chair. “It was a strict environment. Not a lot of friends once I came back to New Mexico, because we lived on the compound.”
“Tell me about that.” Wren watched Jaeger’s sleek movements as he rose from the couch and strode to the kitchen for more coffee.
Jaeger continued to talk from the kitchen. “You lived in Venezuela for a while and were actually born there.” It was a statement, not question.
“Yeah. As soon as my parents married in New Mexico, my dad became the VP of one of my uncle’s coffee bean companies located in Caracas. I came the year after they were married, so I was born in South America. Of course I discovered later the business was a front for drug running.”
Wren stood when his body felt stiff. “Can
we take a break for now? I’d kill for some lunch.” With that said, Wren didn’t wait for Jaeger to respond. He made his way to the kitchen.
JAEGER HAD an excellent view of Wren’s ass when he left the chair for the kitchen. His legs were long and his waist tapered, and the jeans rode low on his hips. Jaeger never believed in déjà vu, but the sensation niggling in the back of his neck made him believe he’d met Wren before.
Hyped on too much caffeine, Jaeger decided to take a walk around the grounds and check the perimeter. In the week or so that they’d been in seclusion, nary a peep rose from the monitors, so it was time to look around.
Jaeger retrieved his gun and a set of binoculars from the control room and grabbed one of the sandwiches Wren had left on the worn tabletop.
“I’m going to take a walk. I’ll be back, and don’t open the door for anyone except me. Or leave this cabin. When I close the door, I’ll reengage the alarm. If something happens you lock yourself in the control room until I get back. Got it?”
Jaeger knew he was being a prick, but he needed to get away from the kid he’d lusted after for the past days. He avoided any physical contact with him. Every time Wren was close enough to touch, Jaeger’s senses became hypervigilant and he had trouble controlling his rampant libido.
“Got it. No outside. Stay away from door. Hide. Anything else?” Jaeger sensed the sarcasm in Wren’s voice but his orders had to be followed.
“Nothing else.”
Jaeger breathed a sigh of relief once the wooden door separated him from Wren. His skin tingled, his scar burned, and his heart rate accelerated. Adrenaline pulsed through his system, and Jaeger wasn’t sure if it was the mission, the lanky protectee, or a combination of both.
Making quick work of the sandwich, Jaeger satisfied his hunger in four bites. He wiped any crumbs from his mouth with the leather band and continued on his trek.
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