Endings and Beginnings (Death and Destruction Book 8)

by Patricia Logan

  Thayne rested back on the headrest and closed his mouth. Sometimes Jarrett knew exactly the right things to do to take him out of his own head and his instincts were almost always right. He decided he was only along for the ride. He knew they were due back in the SCIF to finish out the day and the last thing he wanted to do was to talk about or think about fucking Mills Lang so he just decided to enjoy a few hours with the man he loved.

  Jarrett drove for about twenty minutes and then got off in Santa Monica, not far from the ocean. They’d come back here many times since the first time they’d ever kissed on the beach, but the place held only the best memories for them and he was always happy to go back there. They were lucky and found a parking space right on PCH. The day was beautiful, though it wasn’t yet noon. In spring it wasn’t hot but he shucked his jacket, carefully laying it across the back seat of the car, knowing if they were going to walk, it would heat up. The last thing he wanted to do was go back to the office and sit in the SCIF with a sweat-soaked dress shirt under his suit coat.

  Jarrett came around to the side of the car after shucking his own jacket and loosening his tie. He took Thayne’s hand and pulled him close, kissing him softly and letting the kiss linger for several seconds before pulling back. His ice-blue eyes were twinkling and for the millionth time, Thayne thanked God that he’d found this man who meant the world to him. When deep dimples appeared as Jarrett smiled, Thayne’s heart melted.

  “Come on, Thayne.” Jarrett squeezed his hand and they started walking, holding on to each other.

  Thayne wondered what they must look like to passersby—two tall men dressed remarkably the same in black suits and white dress shirts and ties—holding hands like a couple of sweethearts. Los Angeles was a pretty laid-back sort of place where he and Jarrett felt comfortable being out in public but there were still plenty of homophobes around. Santa Monica was close to the notorious gay community of West Hollywood and as such, it wasn’t all that unusual to see two men walking hand in hand. Thayne wished they could have worn their wedding rings while they were at work, but they always left them on the dresser in a dish at home. They still had the tattoos the massive Tallulah had inked over their hearts. No one but they ever got to see them but that was fine. That’s why Thayne had chosen tattoos, knowing they couldn’t be seen under the dress shirts they wore.

  They walked until they reached the sand and then took off their shoes and socks, choosing not to get the fine leather scratched by the tiny grains. The beach was filling up with midday beachgoers dressed in bathing suits. Thayne and Jarrett looked really out of place and were getting lots of stares. Jarrett didn’t let go of his hand though. Thayne had a feeling nothing could have torn them apart at the moment. He glanced over at Jarrett.

  “What’s this about, Jarrett? You worried about me?”

  Jarrett frowned. “Worried? No. I just thought some of that shit we discussed might be troublin’ you some.”

  Thayne let Jarrett’s words wash over him. He loved the West Virginia twang that came out when Jarrett was really tired or stressed. He knew he’d slept just fine in his arms so the stress he was feeling must be causing the drawl. He stopped them right where they were on the sand but didn’t let go of Jarrett’s hand as he turned to him.

  “I am fine, baby. The very nature of our work is going to remind us of that psychopath now and then. We can’t help it. It’s our job and I’m not made of glass, Jarrett. I’m not gonna shatter into a million shards every time Mills Lang’s name comes up. I gotta say, it got in my head for a few minutes there but it’s just because I was surprised.” He reached up and cupped Jarrett’s stubbled jaw, staring into his light eyes. “I really am fine and if I’m not, I know to call Dr. Avery. I’ll make an appointment with her, sit down again, and hash it out. It’s when I hold it all in that I start to get a little freaked.” He put two fingers over Jarrett’s lips before he could say something. “And in answer to your question, I’m not holding it in. You know this. When was the last time I had a bad dream?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, last week,” Jarrett replied, drawing two dark brows together and downward.

  Thayne had forgotten about that. It had been the worst nightmare in a long time and really the first one since their wedding months before. He had dreamed of being back in Arizona at the hands of Mills Lang. He’d woken up screaming in agony and after Jarrett calmed him down, he’d made him promise to see his psychologist. By the time he’d woken the next morning, he’d literally forgotten all about it. Besides, there were times when Jarrett woke up crying or screaming as well. Though Jarrett’s bad dreams were not as frequent as Thayne’s, Thayne knew the ordeal in Arizona had nearly undone his husband as well. Having a bomb strapped to his wrist probably hadn’t helped Jarrett feel any better.

  A beach ball suddenly came to rest at their feet and they stepped back, coming out of their trances. Thayne hadn’t even realized they’d been staring so intently at each other until the interruption. When a handsome young man came running up and stooped to pick up the ball at their feet, he grinned.

  “Sorry. My boyfriend is an idiot and he thinks you guys are hot. Are you single?” He flashed an impressive set of white teeth and Thayne realized he was hitting on them. The young man didn’t wait for them to answer but he turned his head and indicated a young African-American man lounging on a beach towel not far away. “That’s Rod. He wanted me to ask but I told him he was crazy so he threw the ball this way,” the guy hurried to explain.

  “Sorry,” Jarrett called out, lifting Thayne’s hand in his. “We’re married.”

  The guy on the blanket grinned widely from behind his Ray-Bans. He waved at them as the other guy loped back to his boyfriend, beach ball in hand. They couldn’t have been more than eighteen or twenty and Thayne suddenly felt ten years younger. It wasn’t every day he got hit on by guys half his age. It gave him an indescribable satisfaction to know that others saw what he saw when he looked at his husband. Were they seeing the warrior Thayne knew Jarrett was or were they just seeing a hot man? For Thayne, it was a little of both.

  He knew the man inside and out. He knew what made Jarrett tick. He knew Jarrett loved silly things like that ridiculous hearse he’d brought home, but he also knew Jarrett through his nightmares and what he considered his failures, the men he’d lost, and his time as a mercenary which he desperately regretted. Thayne knew a lot of Jarrett’s work in the ATF was penance for what he’d done in the past, whether anyone else felt it was necessary or not.

  He glanced back at him and was caught off guard by the way Jarrett was looking at him, as if he was the most beautiful man in the world. The moment he caught Thayne’s eye, he wrapped him up and kissed him passionately. The sounds of the two men whistling and clapping faded into the distance as Thayne desperately tried to right his rapidly-tilting world. Jarrett spared nothing as he held him and kissed him, pouring passion into the meeting of their mouths on the very public beach. When Jarrett finally let his lips slide away and Thayne returned to his senses, he glanced around. They seemed to have drawn a lot of attention. It seemed everyone on the beach was looking at them.

  “Let’s go put that SUV into some use before we have to return it,” Thayne said. Jarrett smiled broadly as he took Thayne’s hand and led them back to the car.

  Once in the SUV, Thayne let the palm of his hand rest on his husband’s thigh as he drove them back toward the office. The muscles beneath his hand flexed and the power Thayne felt thrumming beneath the soft fabric was evident. Jarrett pulled off the freeway and turned into an abandoned industrial park, finding a quiet street off the beaten track. Thayne could feel the sexual tension filling the space before he even threw the car into park as he found a spot between two empty buildings whose windows had been blown out long ago.

  “Come here,” Jarrett said, reaching for Thayne across the bench seat.

  Thayne went, sliding over to him as Jarrett lowered the seat back and scooting to meet him. And then Thayne’s hands were on Jarrett�
��s belt buckle, pulling it apart and lowering the zipper of his slacks. Jarrett stared at him, never letting his gaze stray from Thayne’s as he pulled his hard length from the pants, circling it with his fingers. Thayne worked his own belt buckle as he straddled Jarrett in the confined space. He leaned down and kissed Jarrett hungrily as he freed himself. Jarrett panted into his mouth as he surrounded both of their cocks with one hand, unable to fully circle both with one fist. Thayne gasped into Jarrett’s mouth as he began to stroke them together.

  Thayne’s dick was achingly hard and the feel of Jarrett’s as it slid against his was glorious. But it wasn’t enough. He leaned back as Jarrett let go, keeping his gaze focused on the heat in his husband’s eyes. He was so fucking sexy, and he didn’t even realize it. He loosened his tie and undid the buttons on his shirt before doing the same to his husband. If Jarrett was going to fuck him, they were going to get messy.

  “Wait a minute,” he grunted, kneeling up and reaching into the back seat for his jacket. He rummaged in the pocket of his coat and returned to Jarrett half a minute later with satisfaction as he held up a travel packet.

  “Lube?” Jarrett chuckled, leaning up so he could kiss Thayne as he reached for his shirt, spreading it open. Good thinking. Thayne would be coming all over Jarrett’s abs the moment Jarrett came inside him.

  “I was a Boy Scout.” Thayne grinned as he tore the packet open. He wanted Jarrett inside him and nothing could keep him from his goal, even the cramped quarters of the SUV. He ignored Jarrett’s chuckle of laughter, squeezed the contents of the foil packet out onto his fingers, and began slicking over the swollen length of him. When he was done, he reached up and grabbed the edges of the seat back, kneeled up, and readied himself for the wild ride he knew was coming.

  Jarrett kissed him hard, taking his mouth in a passionate meeting of tongues as he positioned his slick cock at Thayne’s entrance. Thayne felt the wide head bump against him as he stared into Jarrett’s ice-blue eyes, waiting as he felt the initial painful stretch of muscles as Jarrett entered him. Thayne gasped into his mouth and forced himself to relax as Jarrett’s fingers grasped his hips almost painfully, pulling him down until the sensation of fullness was almost too much to bear. He loved the way it felt to be penetrated, the initial painful stretch of delicate tissues and then the feeling of absolute ecstasy as Jarrett hit his gland, sending bright hot pulses of electricity zinging through his body. Nothing ever felt as good as when Jarrett was fucking him. Nothing compared to giving himself over to his lover.

  “Jesus, darlin’,” Jarrett groaned as he stared into Thayne’s eyes. “That’s it. C’mon,” he drawled.

  All Thayne could do was moan as Jarrett moved inside him. His man wasn’t small… anywhere. At six four, Jarrett’s long muscled form was well-built and that certainly went for other parts of his anatomy as well. And at the moment, Jarrett was proving he knew exactly what to do with those fine attributes. Thayne tensed the muscles of his thighs, rising and falling over Jarrett’s lap as he increased his pace, sliding on and off Jarrett’s dick. His own cock leaked against his lover’s belly as he moved up and down, still not giving him the friction he needed. He reached down and grabbed his own dick then grunted when Jarrett brushed his hand away and took hold of his shaft. When he began to pump it up and down, sliding his large callused hand over the length of him in rhythm to the thrusts up into his body, Thayne began a high keening sound.

  “You gonna come, darlin’?” Jarrett gasped against his lips. “Wanna see ya come all over me.”

  “Fuck, Jarrett,” Thayne moaned, feeling Jarrett’s cock swell inexplicably larger inside him as he bumped his prostate with each and every plunge into his body. It was like being caught up in a tornado. He had the feeling of wind rushing around his head, filling his ears with white noise as it whipped around them both, bearing down on them, rushing toward the ultimate crash. Jarrett jacked him hard, plunging into him harder and harder, faster and faster until Thayne had no more breath in his body. Jarrett’s fingers dug into his hips painfully and Thayne let go of the seat back, grabbing Jarrett’s pectorals as he felt himself coming apart. Then it was there and everything in his world exploded in sudden blinding, glorious white sparks.

  “Fuck, Thayne!” Jarrett cried against his lips as he spilled inside Thayne’s body. Come jetted from his own cock, splattering up Jarrett’s chest in long thick rivulets, coating his tight abdominals and running down to where they were joined. He’d predicted it and it had come to pass just as Thayne had anticipated. He rode out his orgasm as Jarrett buried his face in the hollow of his throat, gasping against him. “So fuckin’ gorgeous, darlin’.”

  Thayne’s heart thundered in his chest as he gasped, focused on Jarrett’s fist, still pumping him, more gently as he milked the last of his climax from him. When they’d both caught their breath, Thayne realized the windows to the SUV were fogged. He could imagine what the car must look like from the outside and was happy that they’d been able to find a secluded spot to park. If they’d been caught with Jarrett’s cock buried to the hilt in his ass, it would have been more than a little embarrassing. He reached for Jarrett’s lips and connected their mouths, kissing him languidly and thoroughly before pulling back. They were both a mess, their ties thrown over their shoulders, shirts hanging open, still joined. Jarrett grinned at him.

  “This is gonna get messy,” he said, tightening his fingers on Thayne’s hips one last time as he lifted him, sliding free. Thayne felt Jarrett’s release trickle down between them, probably staining his slacks.

  “Oh, Jesus, Jarrett. We did make a mess of it.” Thayne climbed off him and confirmed the mess as come slid out of him, smearing across slacks and the black leather seats of the car. He fumbled in the glove box, searching for tissues and coming up empty. The tails of his dress shirt and both pant legs were covered in come. “Christ,” he groaned, looking down at himself. “How the fuck are we supposed to explain this?”

  “Got you out of your head though, didn’t it?” Jarrett asked, smirking at him as he tucked his flaccid length into his slacks and zipped up.

  Thayne chuckled. “Yeah, it did.” He leaned over and caressed one of Jarrett’s stubbled cheeks, kissing him long and languidly. When he pulled back, his lover’s light eyes were twinkling with mirth.

  “Let’s get back.”

  Thayne leaned over the seat searching for paper anything to wipe up with. He located an orange shop towel on the floor of the back seat just as Jarrett started the powerful engine. He began wiping up and realized there was no way he could go back to the office like this.

  “Stop at home, baby. I need clean clothes,” he said as Jarrett pulled back out onto the street.

  “We’re gonna be late.”

  “And you think it’s gonna be better for us to walk into the SCIF smelling like come?” Thayne asked. “I don’t think so.”

  Jarrett flashed a bright smile. “Fine.” He reached for Thayne’s hand. “But, I like my come on ya.”

  “Marking your territory, huh?”

  “Yeah, you could say that.” Jarrett’s chuckle sent a small thrill through him.

  Chapter Ten

  Sarah and Dev walked into the High Desert State Prison in Susanville that afternoon. Their flight from Burbank to Reno had taken only forty-five minutes, but they’d still had to check their guns and go through security like everyone else. That had eaten up a lot of the day. Sarah wasn’t so much nervous as pumped with adrenaline. She’d had no intention of ever visiting a state prison or any other but her job made it necessary at times. She’d never been to a supermax though. The clanging of thick steel bars as they slid open unnerved her. Dev’s taller form thrummed with energy right beside hers as they walked side by side into the interview room to await Robert Rios, mercenary and former member of the Los Lobos drug cartel.

  The guard who escorted them was a huge man, outweighing both of them by more than a hundred pounds. He towered over them and wore that same grim expression guards in prison m
ovies showed their audience. The difference was, this wasn’t the movies. Even though Sarah knew she was there to do her job, not having her gun at her side after having to check it in a locker made her nervous. She would have been nervous anyway. Robert Rios she could handle. Being surrounded by some of the most notorious bad guys on the planet unnerved her. Do your job, Sarah.

  They were escorted into the interview room—which was deep within the prison—and left to await the arrival of Rios while the guards went to get him. The slamming of the thick steel door as the guard closed them in made her jump. Sarah looked around the small room feeling trapped and claustrophobic all of a sudden. There were no windows and only the one door with a small pane of reinforced glass breaking up the monotony of it. There seemed to be hundreds of layers of dirty yellow-brown paint on the walls that were stained in several places with smears of dirt and grime. The prison was truly the most depressing place she could imagine being left to rot away in. No wonder the justice system locked the most depraved of society away in a place like this. She still couldn’t imagine the mindset of a person wanting to work in one. The guards would almost certainly have issues of their own.

  “This is awful,” Dev said from beside her. They’d taken two chairs on one side of the table, leaving the one opposite for Rios when he was brought in.

  Sarah glanced at her partner. Dev’s dark eyes were wary under the florescent lighting. She looked like a cornered animal and that’s just how Sarah was feeling. She offered a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Let’s just get what he knows and get the hell out of here,” Sarah added.

  “You really think he’s gonna be swayed by us, the way Stanger seems to think? I’m not so sure,” Dev said, darting her gaze around the room again.

  Sarah opened her mouth to reply but was cut off as the scrape of metal broke the silence in the room. They both turned toward the door, rising from the chairs as it swung open. Their guard escort stood in the doorway with a prisoner in front of him. The man had lanky dark hair that hung past his shoulders, obscuring part of his face. He was dressed in prison orange and was shackled at the ankles and wrists with thick chains connecting them. Slightly over six feet tall, his forearms were covered with black tattoos as were his neck and chest visible at his open collar. They appeared to be, at least in part, ink that he’d received in prison or at the very least, meant to memorialize it. Both elbows had radiating spiderwebs, meant to signify the time he’d spent inside. Sarah realized this man—former Marine captain or not—was lethal.