by Jo Davis
“Like, yesterday, I’ll bet.” When he didn’t deny the charge, she regarded him with a mixture of love and exasperation written on her face. Walking over to him, she sat in his lap, and his arms went around her. Linking her arms around his neck, she nuzzled his ear. “If you don’t eat right and get some sleep, you’re not going to have any fuel for the fun stuff.”
“I will always have the energy to play, sexy, so don’t worry. But I also want the three of us to feel safe stepping off the property, and in order for that to happen—”
“We know, the asshole has to be caught. Might go faster if you’d let us help,” she pointed out.
Their lover shook his head. “No. I went that route once before and look how it turned out,” he said, gesturing to Bastian. “No way is that happening again.”
Bastian struggled not to take it as a slap against his ability as an agent or an affront to his masculinity, and failed. He knew Michael’s heart was in the right place, but the man’s attitude was tough on his bruised ego. “I’m not a child. I’m a man, a trained agent, and in spite of the last fiasco, I’m damned good at what I do.” Anger crept into his tone. “I’m almost healed, so let me do what I can. What you hired me for.”
“Believe me, I know you’re all man.” When Michael’s teasing didn’t produce the smile he’d hoped for, he relented. “Okay, I’ll compromise. You oversee my office from here, take over this list I’ve got going with leads from some of our contacts. I’ll hit the street and see what I can learn from there. That’s the deal—take it or leave it.”
Bastian returned his arch stare. “That doesn’t sound much like a compromise. But I’ll take it if you take Blaze with you and promise to at least wear a disguise. And if you swear you’ll book it home at the first sign of trouble.”
“Done.”
“When will you go?”
“Tomorrow night. I’ll call Emma and get her to come along and bring some simple things, like street clothing and a wig.”
“That should work. Anything we can do now?” he asked, including Katrina in the question.
“Not at the moment, thanks.”
“Take a break and come to the pool with us?” she asked hopefully.
“Later, okay? I’m going to chase a few more leads and then see what Mrs. Beasley has to eat. I’ll be along as soon as I can.”
She exchanged a knowing look with Bastian. Their guy was running himself into the ground. Sliding off Michael’s lap, she stood and poked a finger in his chest. “You’ve got two hours, or we’re coming to drag you away from here. Got it?”
His lips quirked. “Yes, dear.”
After giving him a slow kiss, she turned and marched out. Bastian smirked at his partner. “Better listen. I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of her temper when she’s pissed.”
“We will eventually. We’re guys,” his friend quipped. “But I won’t risk bringing her wrath down on my head any sooner than necessary.”
“Good plan. See you later.” They exchanged a smile that went straight to Bastian’s cock. God, the man was like a piece of chocolate—smooth, tasty, and hard to resist.
“Definitely.” He made the one word seem like a delicious fact.
Bastian sauntered out, his mood much improved with the headway they’d made with their lover. Michael had said he’d share the load and take a break, and he wasn’t a man to go against his word. The day was beginning to improve.
At the pool, he joined his lady, and things took a definite turn for the better. They dove and splashed for a while, chasing each other and generally horsing around. When Katrina decided to swim a few laps, he gave in to the temptation of enjoying the warm day. Venturing onto the patio, he spread his towel in the grass off to one side, and, removing his trunks, sprawled on his back. Gloriously naked, he basked like a lizard for about five minutes before a shadow loomed over him.
“You’re going to sunburn the important bits, and then where will we be?”
Opening his eyes, he squinted at the beautiful redhead. “I don’t suppose you have any suggestions on how to provide me with shade, do you?”
“Oh, I believe I have just the thing.”
Bastian’s cock thickened as Katrina peeled off her bikini bottoms and top, tossing them over his discarded trunks. She stalked him like a graceful cat until she stood over him, one foot on either side of his hips. The position gave him an unrestricted view of everything the woman had been blessed with, which was quite stunning indeed.
“Bring yourself down here, baby.”
She lowered herself to sit straddling his thighs, his turgid cock poking up in front of her insistently. Her fingers found his sac and kneaded. Manipulated his balls with delicious pressure. She moved to crouch between his legs and grasped his aching shaft with her other hand, squeezing. He moaned low in his throat, his shaft throbbing. His entire body was strung tense as a bowstring from wanting this pleasure with her for the past four days.
Fisting him, she pumped his length from head to base. Slow and excruciating. Building the heat of silken friction. Bending, she flicked out her pink tongue and tasted the broad head. Licked a drop of pre-cum, causing mini shocks to zip down his shaft.
Out of the corner of his eye, a movement caught his attention. Turning his head, he got another shock—John, Michael’s hunky security man, standing frozen at the edge of the patio, a big erection tenting the front of his khaki slacks. Katrina followed Bastian’s gaze and smiled invitingly.
“Well, hello. Like what you see?” she purred.
The man nodded in mute fascination, eyes wide.
“Why don’t you pull up a seat and enjoy?”
With that, she took Bastian in her mouth. He was certain he’d die from the sheer ecstasy of her expert sucking, not to mention the arousal they’d caused in their voyeur. He groaned, lifting his hips, granting her better access, and the man a better view. Silently pledged his body to her wishes. Fascinated, he watched his cock disappear between her sensual lips, loving the warm, slick sheath sucking him, her shiny red hair pulled to the side in a way that ensured his view. Did John like what he saw?
A quick glance gave him the answer. John was sitting on a lounger, pants opened and pushed to his hips, and he was fisting his own gorgeous cock with enthusiasm.
“Sexy,” Bastian whispered, and the man groaned.
John was a captive audience, observing Katrina kneeling between his splayed thighs, eating him like a stick of candy. Enjoying the show. The idea torched Bastian from head to toe, and he hissed, grabbing a fistful of the towel underneath him. He nearly lost control, so close to shooting down his lover’s slim throat, and was forced to urge her gently from his sensitized cock.
“Easy. I want to last.” He pointed to the towel. “On your hands and knees?”
“Mmm, with pleasure.” She knelt, ass in the air, making sure John would see everything from his angle.
Bastian inhaled, loving the rich scent of her arousal as she spread her legs. The sun played on her sleek skin, illuminated the pink, glistening slit so wet and ready for his cock. The animal in him snarled, demanding that he fuck her hard and fast in front of the handsome security man, show him what belonged to Bastian.
He got into position behind her, laying one hand on the firm, round globe of her rear as he used the fingers of his other hand to rub her moist folds. She moaned, arching her spine as he spread her cream, teased her tiny clit. Next, he parted her folds and plunged two fingers into her channel, driving her to near insanity.
“You want it? You need me to fuck you right here in front of John, so he knows who belongs inside you?”
“Yes,” she whispered, backing into his touch. Opening herself wider.
“Beg me.”
“Please fuck me!”
Her broken plea nearly sent him over the edge for good. Every muscle trembled with the fierce urgency to take her. Withdrawing his fingers, he grasped her hips and guided the broad head of his cock between her folds. Nudged her entrance.<
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And then he pushed inside by inches, savoring her cry of joy. Relishing the sensation of her slick heat surrounding his dick. She opened for him like a flower, taking all of him. Seated to the hilt at last, he held himself deep and let the decadence of their fucking in front of a virtual stranger wash over him.
“God, it’s so good,” he rasped.
“Bastian! Fuck me now!”
Shaking, he withdrew to the tip, hovering at her entrance. She whimpered in protest. Growling in triumph, he slammed home, burying himself to the base. Filled her, grinding his balls against her juicy pussy. Then he pulled out and lunged again. And again. Hard and deep. Faster and faster.
Pounding into her relentlessly, he rejoiced in the dark, heady feeling of riding her to their satisfaction. There was nothing but the fire between his thighs as she met his thrusts. Suddenly, she cried out, her pussy convulsing around his thick shaft. Release tore through him and he pulsed his cum into her. On and on, spilling more than he’d ever thought possible, his eyes rolling back in his head, it was so damned good.
Even when he was finished, he remained inside her, coasting on the echoes of their lovemaking. A strangled sound from behind made him turn his head just in time to see John spurting white cum onto his flat belly, head thrown back, eyes closed.
“I’d say that was a success.” Bastian kissed her spine before pulling out and sitting cross-legged on the towel, and pulling Katrina onto his lap.
“I hope I don’t get fired for this,” John said cautiously, tucking himself into his pants.
“No worries, John,” Bastian assured him. “I imagine you’re going to see lots of interesting things around here from now on. I assume you don’t have a problem with that?”
John’s lips quirked. “No, sir. Not in the least. Any time I can make sure your person is safe, let me know.”
“We will. Thank you.”
John was a smart guy and heard the polite dismissal. He nodded and disappeared down the path between two hedgerows.
After he was gone, Bastian took Katrina’s chin in his hand. “I owe you an apology.”
“For what?” she asked in surprise. “I wanted him to watch, too.”
“No, for not using protection. I got caught in the moment and lost all common sense.”
“Oh. Well, me, too. But I’m healthy and I trust that you and Michael are also.”
“Honey, you should never take other people’s health for granted. I’m clean and I’m sure Michael is, too, but it’s something we should have discussed before we did it bare.”
“I know. I agree. I’m just saying I trust both of you. I’ve always used protection before.”
“Okay. We’ll talk to Michael about this later, then. Maybe we can forgo the condoms altogether, unless we’re playing with others.”
“What others?” She frowned. “Because I’m not too keen on the idea of any of us straying on our own, like you did with that kid Cory.”
He grimaced. “I screwed around with him because I didn’t think I had a chance with either of you. Now that we’re all together, I would never play with anyone we didn’t approve of as a threesome. You have to believe me.”
She kissed him sweetly and smiled. “I do. I just needed to hear you say it. Think Michael will feel the same? The man has an insatiable sex drive.”
“I’m positive he will. And knowing his appetites the way we do? We’ll just make sure he stays happy.”
Now if they could only get their lover to slow down before he collapsed from exhaustion. He needed a break.
And Bastian thought he might have the right solution to his sexy lover’s problem.
Thirteen
Dietz pushed through a sea of bodies and took a seat at the bar, hoping nothing unsavory stuck to his pants. This was the sort of place where the lower-class blue-collar types hung out after a long, sweaty day at wherever the fuck they toiled. They flocked here in grimy droves, drank beer and whiskey, listened to Hank Williams or some other awful shit, and bitched about wives they ought to be grateful were willing to put up with their smelly carcasses.
Doing his best to ignore them, he focused on the bartender. A better-than-average-looking guy named Lenny who slung drinks and made small talk with practiced ease. He worked his followers like a pro, and Dietz waited with false patience until the man finally stopped in front of him.
“What’s your poison tonight?”
“Beer—whatever’s on tap.” What he really wanted was a singlemalt scotch, but he figured he already stood out enough in this crowd. The bartender nodded and went to pull the brew.
Finished, he pushed the beer across the bar. “Three fifty.”
Digging in his wallet, he handed the man a fifty and waved off his change. The man paused, then palmed the money and stuffed the bill into his jeans. “Do I know you?”
“Why don’t you tell me, Lenny?” The man’s eyes narrowed, and Dietz stared back. “Has it been that long, or are you just off your game?”
Lenny huffed an irritated breath and began wiping the bar with a white cloth. “You. I shoulda known.” The bartender eyed the customers around them and decided none were paying attention, then addressed him again. “A certain mutual acquaintance has feelers out all over the city, looking for you.”
“That’s what I’m counting on.”
“What do you want from me?”
“For you to make certain our friend finds me.”
Lenny slung the little towel over one meaty shoulder and cupped a hand around his ear in blatant pretense. “I’m sorry, it’s a bit loud in here. Want to say it again?”
Mercenary son of a bitch. Then again, Dietz could respect a man’s instinct to look out for number one. He slid another fifty across the polished wooden surface. “Can you hear more clearly now?”
The second bill vanished. “I sure can. Where and when can our friend find you?”
“First of all, I was never here and you never spoke to me. Respond to our friend’s inquiries tomorrow afternoon. You heard from a reliable source that I’m holed up in an abandoned house in Cranville, at the address on one of the bills in your pocket.”
“Easy enough.” The man started to turn away.
“That’s not all.”
Cocking a hip, he leaned against the bar. “Of course not. Hope you’re feelin’ real flush tonight.”
He’d anticipated this, but it didn’t grate on his nerves any less. This time, a Ben Franklin found its way into the man’s pocket. “After you make that call, you’ll get one from me. Could be one hour or four before you hear from me, so be ready. You’ll follow my instructions then. Should my evening reach a satisfactory conclusion? A hundred more of those Franklins will find their way into your savings account.”
Lenny froze, no doubt calculating all he could do with ten thousand dollars. Buy a car that actually ran or pay the rent for a few months, maybe even have some left over to buy something nice for the girlfriend. He nodded, and Dietz resisted the urge to outwardly gloat.
“Very good. Until tomorrow.”
Draining his beer, he disappeared through the crowd the way he’d come. A surge of dark anticipation hummed in his veins. In a little more than twenty-four hours, the loss of all Dietz’s plans and dreams would be avenged.
And Dietz would be on a plane to the Caribbean to liberate his money from the numbered account. A plastic surgeon waited on the other end, his new life bought and paid for.
He’d live with the hand dealt him. But not before doing some dealing of his own.
Lenny stared at Robert Dietz’s retreating back, heart thudding against his ribs. Holy shit. Ten fucking thousand dollars. Jesus, the things he could do with the cash.
But the green would be dripping with dark red. He wasn’t stupid. Dietz and Ross were circling each other like a couple of ravenous sharks, and if he went along with Dietz . . .
Ross would die. Simple as that.
But what do I owe him, really?
Plenty. The man had been good
to him. Paid him fair and square for good tips.
But not ten thousand. Nothing ever close. And Lenny was hurting for the money, bad. Would Ross double the amount if he brought him in on Dietz’s scheme? Maybe.
But if Ross failed, Lenny was a dead man for pulling a fast one on a rabid animal like Dietz.
Fuck, fuck! What to do?
In the end, he worked his shift, bided his time. And tried not to think about how he had to betray a good man so that a really nasty motherfucker would walk away free.
Michael found Bastian sitting alone on the sofa in the darkened den off the formal living room, swirling a glass of amber liquid. Moonlight caressed his lover’s hair, gilding it in silvery gold and playing over his fine features.
Does he have any idea how beautiful he is?
A stupid question. Michael knew he didn’t, which made the man all the more desirable. He moved into the room, not bothering to hide his presence. “I woke up and you weren’t in bed with us. Can’t sleep?”
His friend looked up from his glass. “No. Sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t.” He sat on the sofa next to the other man. “Bad dreams?”
“Something like that.”
“Tell me.”
Silence stretched out for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. “I woke up crying. I never do that, but I felt such despair. Stupid, huh?”
Michael laid a palm on his friend’s pajama-clad thigh. He couldn’t help but note the man had on no shirt, and the drawstring pants were oh, so thin. “Fear is never stupid because it often has roots in reality. The dream was just feelings? Nothing specific?”
“Not really.”
“What does that mean? Tell me what you remember,” he said firmly.
“You were dead, okay?” His voice broke. “You were dead, and I knew Katrina and I were next, and nothing else mattered. I was suffocating and I welcomed death because you were gone and . . .”
Michael took the glass from Bastian’s hand, set it on the coffee table. Then he pulled his friend into his arms and held him tight, lending his warmth to the chilled skin. “I’m not going to die,” he said, and willed it to be true. “I’m not leaving either of you, and we’re all going to be fine. I’m not going to allow Dietz to win the war, Bastian. Know that, and trust me.”
