High Lonesome

Home > Other > High Lonesome > Page 16
High Lonesome Page 16

by Tanya Chris


  Pyotr meanwhile had stopped eating his. “So you’re saying people can come from Flume?”

  “Yeah, I mean they won’t bother much, I don’t think. You think it was tough hiking yesterday? With the snow melting, it’ll be worse today. Wet, slow. Any sensible person would wait another day, wait for someone else to break trail, let the snow settle.”

  Pyotr rolled his eyes.

  “What?”

  “Didn’t we agree yesterday that Green Tea was at Flume? Green Tea isn’t going to be ‘sensible.’ If they’re letting people leave Flume, he’ll head here.”

  What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t stop people coming from Flume and Muir, and he couldn’t take Tanner down the gully.

  “I could take Tanner to Flume, I guess.” He could probably get Tanner to Flume and be back by nightfall. It wouldn’t be responsible to leave the hut unattended that long, but he’d do it to keep Tanner safe.

  “Green Tea is at Flume,” Pyotr said in an aggravatingly patient voice.

  “So go back to the landing zone and try to communicate with him again. Tell him not to come.”

  “I’m not leaving you two alone with the trail open to Flume.”

  Joe’s anxiety levels were spiking. He wasn’t supposed to have to deal with situations like this. He was a hut caretaker for a reason, and it wasn’t so he could make life-or-death decisions about international espionage or get wrapped up in emotions over two different men at the same time.

  “We’ll have to wait for him here,” Pyotr said. His eyes had narrowed, becoming resolute. He sounded more like he was talking to himself than to Joe, and Joe relaxed, realizing that Pyotr wasn’t asking him to figure it out. “I don’t like Green Tea being here with you two around, but as soon as he has his hands on the plans, he’ll leave again.”

  “Wait, you’re going to sell him the plans?”

  “That was the point of this mission. Buy the plans from Tanner, sell them to Green Tea.”

  “What do the Russians want them so bad for anyway? Don’t they have submarines of their own?”

  “Not like these,” Tanner said, pausing with a spoonful of oatmeal halfway to his mouth. “Our design runs on osmotic power. Salt-water basically,” he added when Joe gave him a blank look. “Imagine a submarine that doesn’t have to surface to be re-fueled. The concept’s been floated for a long time, but we think we’ve finally found a way to make it work. The patents on this are incredible.”

  He sounded proud of himself, Joe realized, not like a beaten-down addict, but like a scientist thrilled with discovery.

  “I was really lucky to get on this team.”

  Lucky or smart? He could guess that Tanner hadn’t landed on that team by accident, and his respect for how well Tanner had managed to hold his life together in the grip of his addiction went up another notch.

  “So if these plans are so revolutionary, why is the CIA letting the Russians get a hold of them?”

  “Chill,” Pyotr said. “Green Team won’t get far. As soon as he’s out of our hair, I’ll head out to the landing zone and let my team know where to pick him up.”

  “But why don’t you arrest him yourself?” It seemed like a tremendously risky thing to hand over such sensitive information to a foreign agent in hopes of apprehending him later. If Pyotr was really a CIA agent, let him act like a CIA agent.

  “Because I’m a double agent,” Pyotr reminded him. “We have no idea who’s watching or where they’re watching from. My backup team will pick him up far enough away that there won’t be any association with me. That was always the plan. The only thing that’s changed is that Tanner was supposed to be gone already. We’ll have to keep him out of the way, because he’s got a lousy poker face. I hope you can do better.”

  He nodded, though it wasn’t like he’d ever done any spy work before. He had no idea how he’d react.

  “All right,” Pyotr said. “Let’s get these beds back where they belong and get dressed. Tasha, you’re banished to Joe’s room for the day. Sorry.” He went over and kissed Tanner on the top of his head, then started tugging on the clothes he’d left strewn around the room when he’d returned from his hike the day before.

  Joe collected the breakfast dishes and carried them into the kitchen, dumping them into the sink to deal with later. He walked back out into the great room just in time to hear Pyotr ask Tanner where the plans were.

  “Wait. You can’t give him those plans, Tanner.”

  “I can’t sell them to Green Tea if I don’t have them.”

  “They’re his only bargaining chip. He turns those over to you and—”

  “And what? What do you think I’m going to do with them?”

  “Well, you’ve already admitted you’re going to sell them to a Russian spy.”

  Tanner turned around in his chair. He looked over the back of it, his gaze moving between him and Pyotr.

  “And you understand why,” Pyotr said. “Joe, what’s this really about? You still don’t trust me.”

  Did he? He did. Mostly. But what if Tanner gave Pyotr those plans and Pyotr just … left. What if there wasn’t any Green Tea or backup team or CIA mission? What if these last few days had been an illusion, a ploy for Pyotr to get what he wanted, both in bed and out?

  He liked the illusion. He wanted to hold on to it as long as possible, but as soon as those plans were in Pyotr’s hands, it might all vanish.

  “What’s the hurry?” he asked Pyotr. “No one can sneak up on us here. If anyone approaches the hut from the east or the west, we’ll see them from a long way off, and they won’t be making good time, I promise. Let’s just wait. Please?”

  Pyotr huffed out a sigh. Joe looked over at Tanner who was watching the two of them anxiously. He’d told Tanner not to give Pyotr the plans, but he was pretty sure Pyotr could overrule him with a single word. Nevertheless, Pyotr nodded, granting him his request.

  Chapter 15

  Tanner

  Tanner found Joe at the front window that overlooked the path towards Muir. He joined him there, standing too close because he wanted to be touched. Joe accommodated him by wrapping an arm around him and pulling him in front of his own body. He didn’t feel as nauseous as he had the day before, but his bones still ached and Joe’s body warmth was like a heating pad, dulling the pain.

  “Watching for Green Tea?” he asked. Pyotr was in Joe’s bedroom, keeping surveillance on the path to the east since they assumed Green Team would come from Flume.

  Joe shook his head. “Just admiring the space, the beauty of it.”

  “So empty though. Don’t you ever miss the real world?”

  “Kind of came here to get away from it, to be honest. This is where I belong.”

  But Joe didn’t sound like he belonged where he was. He sounded homesick. And he didn’t act like he wanted to be left alone either, not with the way he cradled Tanner’s body in his own. Every time he’d woken up in the night, he’d found some part of Joe’s body touching his—lightly, from a distance, but always touching.

  “I wouldn’t want to live here,” he said, “but I enjoyed being out there with you. I mean, under the circumstances.”

  “You impressed me. I’d never have been able to keep up back when I was using.” Joe’s words made him warm in a different way than his arms did.

  “I used to be in really good shape.”

  “Still are, if sexy is a shape.” Joe hummed and ran his hands down his chest and over his abs. “Could use a little more weight for health reasons, but I don’t mind the visual. And I admire the hell out of you. You’re one tough cookie.”

  “I’ve been a lot of trouble,” he refuted. “I bet you’ll be glad when we’re gone.”

  “I won’t be glad.”

  He noticed Joe didn’t disagree about him being a lot of trouble. At least he’d been able to walk out to the outhouse himself that morning. Brush the vomit-smell out of his mouth. Put on a pair of pants.

  “Most of the heavy withdrawal symptoms will pr
obably be gone by tomorrow,” Joe continued. “Fatigue, your skin not feeling right on your body—those things linger longer.”

  “I feel a lot better already.” He’d already said as much several times that morning. It was both true and not true.

  “Feeling better physically is only a start.”

  He slumped back, letting Joe take more of his weight. Pyotr talked like it was all so easy. He had an action plan with bullet points. Detox. Rehab. Testify against his dealer and get a plea deal. Find a new job willing to overlook his record. Straighten up and fly right. One, two three, success! It was draining trying to pretend like he believed in his own future the way Pyotr believed in it.

  Joe understood, and that made it easy to be honest with him.

  “What happens to me?” he asked, turning in the circle of Joe’s arms to face him.

  “I don’t know, just like no one could tell me what was going to happen to me when I was where you’re at.”

  “What did happen to you?”

  “Plenty, both good and bad. I didn’t do recovery perfectly and you won’t either, but I’m here now.”

  “Where’s ‘here’ though? Alone on a mountain? Is that what it takes to stay clean? Seems like I might as well not bother if I can’t get back to, you know—” he lifted his hands off Joe’s shoulders, then put them back down “—life.”

  “You’ll get there. Everything you’ve done so far, I know it’s only the first steps, but I can see how much strength you have. When I detoxed, I thought I was going to die, and that was in a hospital.”

  “I thought I was going to die too, though.”

  “But you didn’t. You didn’t die and you didn’t give up. You didn’t even ask me for your stash back.”

  “Why?” His mouth went dry in a heartbeat. “Do you still have it? Fuck, don’t answer that. You see how not strong I am?”

  Joe laughed a little and stretched up to kiss him on the nose. “Yeah, maybe you don’t need to be around heroin right now, but someday you’ll be able to walk right by that street corner.”

  “And not want it?”

  “I didn’t say that exactly.” Joe looked past his head, his eyes out the window.

  “Shit, I should’ve given it to Pyotr, not to you.”

  “It’s OK. It’s not that I want it. I don’t want to go back to where I was, not ever. But I can still feel the pull, the need to escape, to not be me.”

  “How do you deal with it?”

  “Sex. Sex is good. And that.” Joe nodded towards the window. “Being outside where it’s quiet and wild. It takes me out of my head, gives me a sense of being a part of something bigger.” His expression changed, becoming software and happier. “You’ll find what works for you, Tanner. Something or someone.”

  “What if I think I’ve found it?”

  Joe frowned. “Don’t lean too hard on me. I’m glad I could help with the detox, but …”

  OK, he understood what Joe was saying. Joe would stay on top of the mountain and he’d go down. It wasn’t like Joe owed him anything. Even if Joe’s home hadn’t been at Longline, why would he want to tangle himself up with a junkie traitor being chased by both the CIA and the KGB?

  “Pyotr said you could live with him while you get back on your feet,” Joe offered.

  “You don’t trust Pyotr.” He trusted Pyotr, or thought he did, but Joe’s mistrust made him question his own judgment. Pyotr had been so good to him though, and if he was offering to keep Tanner in his life, he couldn’t imagine why he’d say no. Even if Pyotr was KGB, not CIA, so what?

  “It’s not that I don’t trust him,” Joe said. “It’s myself I don’t trust, maybe. What do I know about people anymore? I think he’s a good man and that he cares about me, but that can’t be true, can it?”

  “Why not? He cares about me.”

  “Yeah, I think he does.” Joe reached up and grabbed one of the curls at the back of his neck and tugged on it. “Tasha. Can I call you Tasha?”

  “Of course.”

  “It’s his name for you.”

  “We’re all in this together. I mean, I don’t know what this is, but whatever it is, stop distancing yourself from it, OK?”

  “Maybe.” Joe didn’t promise, but he smiled and used the hand wrapped through his curls to steer him in for a kiss.

  Joe’s lips were warm and dry and soft on his, but he wanted more, so he opened his mouth and pressed it tighter against Joe’s, stepping in to him so he could feel Joe’s hard muscled chest warm against his own as strong hands tightened their hold.

  “Maybe now isn’t the time,” Joe said, separating them a little. “You haven’t been well.”

  “Make me forget,” he begged. “Everything hurts and I’m scared, but for a little while …”

  Joe nodded and his mouth closed over his again, this time with pressure and passion. He whimpered. He let his knees go weak until he lost the few inches that made him taller than Joe. He wanted to feel small right then, to know that Joe was as strong as he felt, that his hardness extended over every inch of him. Their bodies aligned and Joe pulled until their groins smashed together, cock to cock.

  The pleasure was sharp and hungry in a way he hadn’t felt in so, so long, and the ache in his bones receded as the ache in his cock built.

  “Touch me, touch me,” he murmured, needing the concreteness of Joe’s hands on him. This wasn’t floaty, dreamy sex hazed by a high. This was him being in his body, feeling every sensation—good and bad—firsthand, not through a filter.

  Joe chuckled, as though he understood everything Tanner needed. His hand snaked between them and through the waistband of his sweat pants, dipping beneath his shorts to close around his drooling dick. Tanner hissed in a breath between his teeth. His head dropped back and Joe’s mouth found his neck, and all the nerve endings between his groin and his head lit up.

  “Wait,” he managed, pushing back at Joe’s shoulders without any strength. “We need Pyotr.”

  Joe pulled his hand out from his shorts and cocked his head.

  “Don’t you want him?”

  “I want him,” Joe said shortly. He swung Tanner up into his arms and carried him towards the bedroom. “You’re sure you’re up for a threesome?”

  He pushed down his track pants in front, letting the boner that popped out speak for him. “I seem to be.”

  “We’ll get to that,” Joe said with a leer.

  When Joe muscled them through the doorway to his bedroom, Pyotr turned from the window to take them in. The corner of his mouth twitched and one eyebrow lifted, but otherwise he remained impassive.

  “Tanner and I want to fuck,” Joe told him.

  Pyotr waved at the bed they’d reassembled earlier. “Don’t let me stop you.”

  Joe placed him on the mattress and went over to Pyotr. “We could’ve fucked upstairs. He asked for you.”

  “And you?”

  “I brought him here.”

  “To share him?”

  “To share you.”

  “I’ve got to stay alert.”

  “No one can sneak up on us. That’s an hour walk from the horizon in these conditions.” Joe took Pyotr’s hand and stepped back with it, more seductively than he could’ve imagined the sturdy man-of-the-mountain being. “Come fool around with us, Petya.”

  It was the nickname that did it, he thought, because Pyotr’s eyes went soft as they flickered between Joe and him where he lay with his pants still pushed down under his balls. Pyotr allowed Joe to pull him towards the bed.

  “You’ll be cold,” Pyotr warned him, as he and Joe worked together to strip him completely.

  “Not between the two of you.”

  “Then that’s where we’ll keep you.” Pyotr pushed at Joe’s shoulders, steering him down until he lay on the far side of the bed. Joe immediately wrapped both arms around Tanner and yanked him back against his chest, opening a narrow strip of space at the front of the bed.

  “There’s no way all three of us are going in th
is bed,” Pyotr said.

  “Try,” he urged.

  “I’ve got a better idea.” Pyotr knelt down in front of him. “I can take care of you right here.”

  Pyotr leaned in and kissed him from the front even as Joe’s lips explored him from behind. Their hands crawled over his body. His skin came alive, sparking everywhere they touched, the sensation moving and popping. Now there were fingers tweaking his nipple, now there were teeth nipping at his ear. Now a hand tugged his balls gently away from his body, molding and shaping them with nearly-rough strokes, now a tongue ran up the side of his shaft.

  His eyes had drifted shut, the better to feel everything he was feeling, but the warm wetness traveling up his cock had them flying open just as Pyotr swallowed him deep.

  “Oh, God.” He pushed his hips forward futilely. The angle, and Pyotr’s hand on the point of his hip, kept him from getting deeper, but he didn’t need to be deeper, not when Pyotr kept changing up the suction with long, wet stripes of his tongue down the sides of Tanner’s shaft, over his balls, back up the other side and around the tip, only to take him all the way down again.

  Joe’s fingers were strumming at his nipples and his mouth was hot against Tanner’s ear, murmuring encouragement, telling him how beautiful he was. He reached back, trying to get a hand on Joe’s dick to guide it inside him.

  “Fuck me,” he urged.

  Joe reached over him and snagged a tube from the nightstand, rolling him forward so that Pyotr choked and looked up at the two of them.

  “Be careful with him.”

  “I was planning on it.”

  Tanner didn’t exactly want Joe to be careful with him. When they’d fucked before, Joe had ridden him long and hard and it had made him come like he hadn’t in a while, but his body trembled from his lingering sickness and too little food over the last few days and when Joe eased a finger gently inside him, he didn’t protest or beg for more. He leaned back again so his chest rested against Joe’s back and he was out of Pyotr’s face.

  Joe had his leg lifted and bent so he had room to work, but their upper halves were plastered together in the growing heat of the day and he felt a sweaty languor settle over him as he reveled in the dual sensations of Joe’s finger stroking over his prostate and Pyotr’s mouth traveling up and down his shaft.

 

‹ Prev