by Jodi Payne
He let Tony see him, moving slowly but purposefully in Tony’s direction and stopping once they were toe to toe. He tossed his supplies over Tony’s shoulder and onto the bed. Tony raised an eyebrow but didn’t budge. The pair of them stood there locked in challenge until Quinn finally moved, reaching and grasping Tony’s chin in one hand and kissing him hard.
Tony’s fingers threaded around his erection and tugged, gently at first, then harder as Quinn claimed the man’s mouth. Quinn was forced to tear himself away to gasp, needing to breathe, needing air. Needing Tony.
“Now,” Quinn ordered. Tony nodded and moved toward the bed. Quinn watched him, the way his thigh muscles rippled as he walked, the way his shoulders flexed as he reached for the mattress. Quinn helped him out, giving his ass a shove with a bare foot, and Tony collapsed face down in the thick duvet.
Quinn reached for the rubber and rolled it on deftly, then palmed a large dollop of lube and ran his hand down the length of his cock. Fingers slippery and warmed with the heat of his own body, he reached out without warning and pushed two of them inside Tony’s upturned ass.
There was no hint of a fight this time—Tony’s response was willing and wanting, and, as Quinn stretched and slicked him, he arched up against Quinn’s intrusion with a long moan.
“Now, you want it.”
“Yes. Quinn.”
Hearing what he needed, Quinn removed his fingers, took hold of his cock, and shoved the head of his erection against Tony’s willing body. Tony shifted, bending his knees and lifting slightly to admit him.
Taking Tony, burying himself deep inside the man, sent Quinn’s conscious mind far away, and left only his need and his desire, pure and uncensored. The head game they had been playing was just foreplay, the set up. This was the real match, the battle for the trophy. And he’d won it.
God, the reward was fucking glorious. Tony’s body arched and moved under him and he bent over Tony’s back, biting and kissing skin anywhere he could find it. Quinn kept his thrusts deep and long, controlled for now as he took his pleasure, enjoying Tony’s tight, willing heat.
Tony wasn’t a passive partner, and Quinn loved it. The man rocked back into him, moved under him, moaned and grunted and begged for every thrust. “Jesus, Tony.” Quinn encouraged him, his need starting to build. “Fucking hell, yes.”
Tony laughed softly. “Come on, tough guy. Get on with it.”
Quinn smacked Tony’s bare ass with a flat hand and the sound rang out in the room. Tony yelped in what seemed more like surprise than pain, and the red mark Quinn left on the man’s pale skin turned his cock to stone. He groaned, feeling himself slip, his need winning out as his climax spiraled in his groin. Tony dropped his shoulders to the mattress and begged. “Please.”
“Fuck, yeah.” Quinn let go, giving up his measured control and chasing down his orgasm like prey. “Tony!” As he started to come, all the tension and anxiety of the day vanished. Although he was spent quickly, his orgasm seemed to last hours. It felt like forever, and the aftershocks forced moans from them both.
“Quinn.”
“Fuck, Tony.”
As Quinn hung there panting, draped over Tony’s back, a voice in the rational part of his mind fought its way through the fog. It told him to move, to give Tony some air, and he tried to listen but it was another long moment before his muscles would comply.
His knees were still weak and his thighs trembling when he finally did pull away and left Tony briefly to go clean up. He came back to find that Tony had pulled down the covers, and lay comfortably in the pillows, stretched out on his back.
Quinn admired the view, bruised though it was, but didn’t have any idea what to say so he simply climbed into bed and stretched out beside his impromptu lover. Tony reached over and took his hand, threading their fingers together, but stayed silent, as well.
Chapter Five
Quinn blinked, realizing that at some point he had fallen asleep. He glanced over at Tony, who was sitting up in bed, back against the headboard, with the comforter pulled up over his bent knees.
“Mmm. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I dozed off, too.” Tony slid his hand over Quinn’s head, letting it rest behind one of Quinn’s ears. “It felt good, actually, just drifting off.”
Quinn rolled up on one side, resting his head on his elbow.
“And now?”
“I don’t know.”
Quinn could relate. “But that was hot, you have to admit.”
“Hot doesn’t even begin to describe what just happened between us.”
Quinn snorted. “Fuckin’ A, right?”
“Well, that’s one way to put it.” Tony sighed. “I loved that. I want more.”
Quinn slid a hand down Tony’s shin. “Me, too.”
The look Tony gave him was complex, but Quinn only had a moment to contemplate it before Tony slid down the headboard and kissed him. This was the best Quinn had felt in a long while, and certainly the most relaxed he’d been in the last twenty-four hours.
God, had it only been twenty-four hours? What the fuck?
Quinn returned the kiss, wrapping a hand around Tony’s neck and tugging on him until Tony had maneuvered himself down, stretching out along the length of Quinn’s body. “I have no idea what to do with this,” Tony whispered to him between bouts of locked lips.
“I can’t help you.” If he were Tony, he’d have run while Quinn slept. He’d have run far and run fast. What the man was still doing here was utterly beyond Quinn’s comprehension. Had Tony no sense of self-preservation?
“You could have run while I was asleep.”
“Maybe.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know much of anything, do you?” Quinn joked.
“I know you have something I need.”
“Yeah, car keys.”
Tony grunted and gave Quinn a shove. “Seriously?”
“I’m sorry.” He grinned at Tony. “Tell me.”
Tony shrugged. “Let’s not overthink it right now.”
“I would’ve run.” Quinn sat up. In fact, had things happened any other way, Quinn might consider that Tony seduced him to throw him off his guard. The fact that he didn’t—
Yeah. Tony had a point. Don’t overthink it. “It’s getting cold in here, right? Let me stoke things up.” The fire they’d just lit in his bed was still smoldering nicely, but it didn’t warm the house.
“Can I get a drink?”
“Hell, yes. Get me one, too. In the kitchen cabinet, over the fridge.”
They both got up and pulled on sweats, then set about their respective chores. It was getting dark out already, and Quinn was a little disappointed not to have finished the storm windows on the side of the house, but there was always tomorrow.
Hopefully.
He worked on the fire in the main room, feeding the embers in the big stove, watching them catch one of the bigger logs and take off from there. He closed the stove door. “Might as well toast up the bedroom, too,” he said out loud, not sure if Tony would hear him or not. They could end up back in there soon. No arguments out of him.
It occurred to him as he fired up the little potbelly stove that he had just become intimately involved with a man with a price on his head. Things could potentially get very complicated. They had a few days together and that was all. After that it wasn’t a break-up, it was going to be a break-off. He didn’t see the harm in enjoying the man while he could, but he had to be careful. The last time he’d divorced himself from the emotion of a physical relationship it hadn’t been anywhere near this intense.
Watch yourself, Quinn.
“Whiskey neat or rocks?” Tony called from the kitchen.
“Rocks.” Quinn was in a sipping mood.
“Sounds good.”
Once the fire was going, Quinn dug two clean T-shirts out of a drawer, pulled one on and headed out into the main room. He found Tony sitting there in the big armc
hair, drink in hand, and another drink along with the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table.
“Here.” Quinn tossed the shirt to Tony. “Keep some of the chill off.”
“Thanks.” Tony pulled it on and settled back with his drink.
The two of them sat silently in each other’s company for a long while. Quinn actually finished his first drink and poured them each a second before he finally said what was on his mind. “It never occurred to me to tell him you were dead. Maybe it should have, but I got asked a question and I just answered.”
Tony shrugged. “Hindsight.”
“I apologize. In my line of work, I don’t have to think on my feet very often.”
“Some of us are better at it than others.” Tony gave him a wink and a hint of a smile.
“Did you plan that?”
“What?”
“Getting me all worked up?”
Tony snorted. “Hell, no. I just…lost it. I didn’t realize what was happening until we were…”
“Yeah. Fucking killer kiss.”
“Interesting choice of words,” Tony laughed. Quinn didn’t actually think it was that funny and it must have showed. “Sorry. It was incredible.”
“Did you call me—?”
“Son?”
“You did.”
“I do that.”
“Yeah, well, I—”
“Quinn,” Tony interrupted. “That moment—it wasn’t the whole ‘captive falls for his captor’ thing.”
“What?”
Tony looked at him seriously. “I needed you to understand I intended—and expected—a level playing field.” Tony tossed back his whiskey and reached for the bottle.
“I thought I gave you that?”
“You did.” Tony nodded. “Thanks for that. You have an amazing mouth, by the way.”
“Jesus, I don’t think I’ve been thanked for a blow job since high school.”
“Not for the blow job. I mean yes, but, no. For the balance.”
“Oh. Well, yeah.” It had to happen that way. Quinn had sensed that clearly.
The room fell silent again. Quinn followed Tony’s lead and refilled his glass. He looked at Tony, who was studiously contemplating his ice cubes. Watch yourself, Quinn, he reminded himself, but even as he thought it he knew it was already too late. Even with the swollen eye and the bruising, Tony was the hottest man Quinn had ever known, largely because it wasn’t how the man looked that had drawn him in. Granted, Tony was clearly in good shape, his abs were hard and his legs muscular, and you didn’t haul wood all day after having the snot kicked out of you if you weren’t healthy enough to recover quickly. But it was Tony’s mind that had hooked him. He matched Quinn thought for thought, idea for idea. They were intellectual equals. It didn’t hurt that they were matched in aggression, too.
Tony challenged him in ways no one ever had. That was the bottom line.
But Tony was still his hostage. There remained the matter of whose life meant more to whom. That wasn’t the level playing field Tony needed, and, Quinn realized with a sudden desperate and frightening clarity, he wasn’t going to get what he wanted without balance, either.
Abruptly, Quinn sat his glass on the coffee table and stood.
“What’s up?” Tony asked. Something about Quinn’s body language must have alarmed him. “You okay?”
Quinn didn’t answer. He didn’t need distraction just then. He needed to take care of this before he lost his nerve. He marched past Tony and lifted several logs from the wood pile to retrieve the key fob he’d hidden there. Next he marched into the kitchen and retrieved the gun he’d stashed in a drawer.
Tony stood, watching him. “Quinn.”
Quinn returned to the main room and set the key down on the coffee table in front of Tony.
“What are you doing?”
“Leveling the playing field,” Quinn replied seriously. He checked the clip in his Beretta to make sure it was full, then reloaded the gun.
Tony held a hand out to him. “Quinn, wait.”
Quinn shook his head and laid the Beretta on the coffee table next to the key fob and turned the handle toward Tony. He made a ‘hands off’ gesture, refilled his glass, and sat down on the couch.
Tony stared at the table for a long moment and Quinn took an equally long sip of his whiskey. “I’m not keeping you here anymore.”
Finally, Tony shot back his drink and joined Quinn on the couch. “Yes, you are.”
The strength in Tony’s kiss felt different this time. Or maybe it was just that Quinn had accepted things for what they were. His desire for self-preservation had come up hard against his desire for this man and the simplest way to rid himself of that dilemma was to make sure that Tony had all the same options he did.
This option, though, was by far his favorite.
Chapter Six
It was snowing the next morning. Not a heavy blanketing, but a steady light snow that dusted the trees and the yard, and made Quinn wish he’d put his car in the garage.
He’d left Tony sleeping under the down comforter to start a fire in the main stove and make coffee. His Beretta and the car keys were right where he’d left them, untouched. When he returned with two steaming mugs, Tony was in the bathroom. Quinn set the mugs down and fed a log to the embers that were left in the potbelly stove. The dry wood lit quickly.
“Holy shit! That bathroom is so cold I could barely pee!” Tony sprinted past Quinn and dove under the covers again.
“I’ve got the fires going,” Quinn assured him, laughing. “Here. Have coffee.”
“Oh, my God. Thank you. Did I see snow?”
“A little.”
“How do you do this frozen thing all winter long?”
“Actually, on the cold nights I usually get out of bed a few times and stoke things up so it doesn’t get too bad.” Quinn dumped his robe on the corner chair and climbed back into bed beside Tony. “If it really gets cold, like below zero for more than a day? I give in and turn on the furnace.”
“You have a furnace?” Tony looked hopeful.
Quinn snickered and sipped his coffee. Tony leaned back against the headboard, shoulder to shoulder with him.
“So, Tony. Giving you the benefit of the doubt and accepting that you have no idea why you’re on a hit list—”
“Gee, thanks.” Tony snorted.
“I just have one question.”
“Hmm?”
“Who’s looking for you?”
Tony nodded. “Fair question. But probably nobody.”
“Work?”
“Freelance. I’ll miss a deadline eventually and someone will send an email that will go unanswered. And I guess I’ll miss my rent payment at the beginning of the month.”
Quinn raised an eyebrow. “Someone is going to miss you. Family? Lovers? Friends?”
“I have precious little of any of those things and no one close.”
“Hmm. Well, I can understand why you don’t have friends, you are kind of an asshole.”
Tony laughed. “I am kind of an asshole.”
“So, good. I needed to make sure no one was trying to track you down. No one you care about I mean.” He reached over and took Tony’s coffee from him, setting both mugs on the bedside table. “Tony, I know how we’re going to get out of this.”
“You do?” Tony sat forward and looked Quinn in the eye with interest.
“Hey, your eye looks a lot better today. Are you seeing better, too?”
“Quinn!”
“Sorry. Yes, I do.”
“And?”
“And you’re going to shoot me.”
“I’m not going to shoot you, just tell me.”
“No, I mean, you are actually going to shoot me.”
Tony stared at him. “I am not going to shoot you.”
“Yes, you are. I hope that you opt for something non-fatal, but that’s your prerogative, I suppose.”
“Quinn, I am not going to shoot you. I probably couldn’t hit this hous
e from ten paces.”
“Well, we’ll work on that.”
Tony shook his head. “Quinn—”
“Would you fucking shut up and hear me out, please?”
Tony stared at him again.
“Thank you. So, after you shoot me in some manner in which I couldn’t possibly chase you, and perhaps also render me unconscious, you’re going to steal my car.”
“Quinn—”
“You will drive into town and park the car. There’s a burner phone in the glove compartment, you’ll grab that and take it with you. Then you’ll take a cab to the train station, buy a ticket to somewhere out of state, lay low, and wait for me to call. When I do, I’ll come get you and we’ll leave the country together.”
Tony looked down at his coffee. “So I’m shooting you so that hopefully when these guys arrive and I’m not here your ‘Boss’ won’t be so pissed that he tells them to kill you.”
“Right. I think I can talk my way out of it.”
“You can?”
“Pretty sure, yeah. And I’ll make up a story about where I think you went to throw them off you for a couple of days.”
“What if you can’t…talk them out of it?”
“I can. I will.” But he had a plan B in mind for Tony if he couldn’t.
Tony shook his head. “I don’t like it.”
“You have a better idea? Because everything else I’ve come up with ends with me dead, you dead, or both of us dead.”
Tony sighed. “Yeah. Me, too.”
“So at least this gives us a chance, right?” And it ensured Tony would be okay, in any case.
“But what happens when they figure out I’m not where you said I was going?”
“I’ll be long gone by then. Don’t worry about that. If they leave this property and I’m still breathing, we’re good.”
“If?” Tony put his hand on Quinn’s arm.
“When, handsome. When,” Quinn said quickly, covering Tony’s hand with his own. “Listen. Even more important than money, there are a fair number of people that owe me favors. I know forgers, hackers, pilots—trust me, once I leave here, you don’t have to worry.”
