Hawaii Five Uh-Oh

by Z. A. Maxfield

  He took each item off carefully and folded it. When he was done, he knelt on the floor in nothing but his briefs. Briefs were negotiable, but in front of this crowd, Koa would have to make a damn good offer.

  He spread his knees, put his hands behind his head, and waited. Was it his imagination? Or had Koa’s breathing quickened? From his position, he had a clear view of Carlito and Zhang. They traded glances while Koa eyed him with undisguised hunger. The kid from the liquor store picked up his clothes, and now he placed them on an overstuffed ottoman.

  Koa turned to him. “Safeword?”

  “Pilikia,” Theo told him. Trouble.

  Koa bit his lip to keep from laughing. “Limits?”

  “You know what I like.” Theo lowered his lashes and gave a little shiver. “Don’t break my skin, Sir. Please and thank you, Sir.”

  He sneaked a glance and found Koa’s mouth agape.

  Theo stayed where he was. A few odd seconds passed while Carlito smirked and Zhang hid his laughter, because by now everyone knew Theo was testing Koa.

  “Trouble,” Koa warned.

  Theo resigned himself to five good ones and asked, “The usual way, Sir?” Whereupon he stood, bent in half, and placed his palms flat on the floor.

  New Theo was lithe and flexible, and the bulky muscles he’d lost were more than compensated for by yoga ass. Even Calista had mentioned his ass was firm and round and perfect.

  In fact, he had to consider his ass carefully when buying trousers. This pair, yes, you won’t embarrass your mother; that pair, definitely yes, you will astound anyone with eyes and a yen for dick….

  The kid made a small, strangled sound.

  Zhang said, “Suddenly my throat feels so dry.”

  From Theo’s new upside-down angle, Carlito’s eyes burned in a frightening, V-shaped face. He didn’t make a sound, though, which was worse somehow than if he asked for dibs on sloppy seconds.

  Hands landed on his hips—Koa bringing him gently upright. He stood behind Theo, his fly brushing the nearly bare skin of Theo’s ass. Theo shivered again when Koa’s big, hot body moved away and he stood in the path of an AC vent without its protection.

  “I think you’d probably be more comfortable like this, hm?” Koa drew one of the barstools toward him. He arranged Theo chest down, facing the window so everyone had a spectacular view. As if he didn’t trust him to do his goddamn job, he zip-tied Theo’s hands below the support. Theo made a face. Koa pulled his briefs down and off with an impersonal smack on his ass.

  He breathed words against Theo’s ear. “You okay?”

  “Mm-hmm.” Theo nodded. “You want me to count?”

  “Yes.” Koa brushed his lips across Theo’s cheek. “You do this a lot?”

  “Not anymore.”

  Koa’s eyes sparked briefly with unhappiness. “True talk, Te. You got this, yeah?”

  Theo nodded. He closed his eyes and listened while Koa chose his instrument. Of the four men there, Koa seemed the least likely practitioner of BDSM. Koa was independent. Aloof. He had a basic need to see scales balanced that would make it uncomfortable for him to master or serve another person. But if he did—he was that one man in a thousand Theo would trust to practice it rationally every single time. Unlike sex, which Theo hoped Koa approached like a wildebeest on Molly.

  At this point, he just hoped he’d find out soon.

  The cane Koa chose whistled through the air a couple times. Koa smacked it on his hand twice, and then, far more frightening, he brought it singing down, thwack, on a leather couch cushion. The sound was so realistic, it would be triggering for anyone who had ever been caned. Gooseflesh rippled over Theo’s skin and his cock tightened painfully. Well, there you go.

  Carlito made a happy humming noise. Koa grunted. Theo listened to the sound of the surf. Thwack.

  “One, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

  The stripe of fire burned and bloomed and blossomed until it faded like skywriting. The intensity lessened but lingered. The burn drifted over his skin until it was little more than a bone-deep ache and misty pleasure. The first one was always easy.

  Koa’s hand came down over his work, not hard. Testing the temperature, or… maybe simply enjoying contact with human flesh. Theo enjoyed it too. He spread his legs invitingly for Koa—arched his spine in invitation.

  “Te,” Koa warned.

  Theo took a half breath and let it out slowly so that when the cane came whistling down again, he didn’t flinch but hissed like a kettle instead.

  Again, pain made waves over his skin. It rippled from the strike outward over his whole body. “Two, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

  “Pain slut. My God, he can take it.” Carlito was going to swallow his tongue. “You didn’t hold back at all.”

  “Did you expect me to?” Koa asked. Zhang stayed silent. Assessing.

  The kid—Theo was going to find out that fucking kid’s name if it was the last thing—looked on with fearful eyes. The cane’s force depended on the person who wielded it. The kid might have enjoyed spanky, playful fun, but this was punishment, pure and brutal. It was Koa’s test, so Theo had to take it. Except for their agreed-upon limits, Koa was not holding back. The third stroke brought tears to Theo’s eyes.

  “Three, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” To be seen as at least as tough as the men who used him was a matter of pride. His voice wouldn’t break, nor would he. He would only safeword if Koa went back on his word and broke Theo’s skin. But he was going to give Koa such shit for this. There had better be ice cream. Or cake. Theo wanted a Kobe beef and lobster dinner with all the trimmings and dessert.

  “For God’s sake, finish it.” The kid turned toward the bar, where he rummaged noisily around. He didn’t have the stomach for this. It was all Carlito’s show. Interesting.

  “Ready, Te?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Thwack, thwack. Two in a row. Like a gong, he rang and rang and rang. Agony enveloped him in a red haze. He took a deep breath.

  “Four, Sir. Five, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

  “If everyone is satisfied,” Koa said, “I need to see to my boy now. Alone.”

  “Take him to the guest room. Albert will show you the way.”

  Albert. Theo winced when Koa cut his wrists free and the blood returned to his fingers. Was that the kid’s name?

  If it didn’t seem weird that Koa picked him up like a baby and carried him to a room across the hall, it was because nothing seemed weird anymore.

  Chapter Fourteen

  EVEN THOUGH the bedding was soft, even though Koa laid him down gently as he could, Theo hissed when his skin hit the linens. Rolling over was agony.

  “Here’s a thought,” he managed. “How about you tell me what’s going on here while I call 911.”

  “You’re not gonna do that.” Koa flopped down beside him. “Jesus, Te. Of all the times to play Inspector Clouseau, you chose tonight.” He picked up a remote and switched on the television. Immediately the bedroom filled with the sounds of heterosexual porn. The boom-chicka-chicka soundtrack hid the sound of Koa whispering, “Kid’s probably listening at the door.”

  Theo rolled his eyes before closing them. Koa’s breath warmed his ear, heating him from within. His dick tightened all over again.

  “You fucker. What’s your cover?” he asked. “Just the details? I don’t want to screw this up for you.”

  “No cover, man. They know exactly who I am.”

  “Then—”

  “We caught a body we think might be connected to human trafficking,” Koa whispered. Someone knocked on the door. “Shit. No time….”

  “Mr. Palapiti?” Albert. Theo met Koa’s gaze.

  “I said we don’t want to be disturbed,” he shouted over the grunting and cries. “What’s your problem?”

  “Mr. Zhang sent me with supplies.”

  Koa whispered, “It’s too complicated to explain now. Trust me?”

  “You keep asking that.” Did he? He didn’t even know Koa anymore. Koa had bl
own hot and cold. He was doing some mysterious off-and-on shit with Freddie, who was a grade A asshat.

  For all he knew, Koa and Ortiz were dirty. That would kill him, because… he did trust Koa. With his body, his heart. With his mother, for God’s sake. He trusted Koa with his life, and that wasn’t hyperbole.

  He had no reason except his gut. But New Theo believed in shit like that, so he gave Koa a quick nod. “Yeah, I trust you.”

  Koa got up to let Albert in.

  The kid was as tall as Koa. Reedy, and dressed to look even thinner in a tailored button-down. His bare ankles stuck out between skinny jeans and deck shoes. Sullenly, he carried a tray on which sat a large flat ice pack, some pain reliever, and arnica gel, along with a good bottle of whiskey, two glasses, and more ice. He set the tray on the dresser and handed over a tiny cup with a sealed packet of Tylenol inside.

  “Thoughtful host.” Koa gave Theo the pills to dry-swallow while Albert poured whiskey. “Please thank Mr. Zhang for us.”

  “The whiskey is from Mr. Carlito, with his compliments for Master Koa and Te.” Theo’d probably get a follow-up invitation from Mr. Carlito. Plenty of men wanted to try him out after seeing him take a beating. They wanted to break him. No, thank you.

  Whiskey would go straight to his head, but he expressed his gratitude.

  “Much appreciated.” Theo had no choice but to address him from his prone position on the bed. “But I require water.”

  “There’s bottled water in the cabinets next to the bed.”

  Theo sagged while he gathered the strength to retrieve some. His body still buzzed from the beating, his blood was full of confusing hormones, and Albert studied him like he was a laboratory animal, which made him testy. “What?”

  “I’ve seen you before,” Albert said. “You’re a police officer?”

  Theo tensed. “Yes.”

  “You guys are freaks, man.” The kid shrugged, folded his hands, and stood there. Behind him on the big screen, a guy with tattoos and an eyebrow piercing rimmed a Latina woman who screamed, “Yes, yes, yes!” over and over mechanically.

  Koa shut it off. “What’s next?”

  “You wait.” It looked like Albert wasn’t going to budge from his spot in front of their door. “I wait.”

  Koa shrugged. “Fine.”

  “It’s customary for servants to wait on the outside of the door.” Theo played the toppy sub. “Go.”

  The kid flushed hotly, but he opened the door and stepped outside. After he closed the door silently behind him, Koa laughed.

  “This isn’t funny,” Theo told him.

  Koa smoothed arnica gel over Theo’s abused skin before settling a tea towel and ice pack on it. “You gotta admit that kinda was.”

  “If I’m gonna play the role—”

  “Shh.” Koa leaned over and kissed his lips, one smack, just to shut him up. Again, Theo wanted to chase the flavor and heat of him, despite the throbbing pain across his ass. Koa smiled down at him while he smoothed the sheet over Theo’s upper back.

  Theo drifted, gripped by the burn of each stripe. There was a rhythm to it. Acute pain, which flowed outward from each lash mark to become a throbbing ache, which left him feeling stiff, and then it miraculously eased again. He’d learned early on: pain could be useful because his body made drugs.

  Pain was forge and fire. When he leaned into it, pleasure washed over him in the form of endorphins. How long had he used his body’s chemistry to alter his mood? He’d self-medicated with pain, sports, and sex all his life, believing that the pressure of pleasing his impossible-to-please dad, and later working a high-stress job, could be controlled like the pressure in an Instant Pot.

  If he let off steam—liquor, leather clubs, risky sex, adrenaline, and endorphins—he could manage. So he’d burned his candle, not just at both ends, but with a flamethrower.

  I am so going to pay for all of this someday.

  Because Koa didn’t turn the television back on, Theo kept his mouth shut. Every so often, Koa moved the ice pack on his ass, resettling it just so, which felt nice.

  “My mother know you’re a kinkhound?” Theo asked quietly.

  “She’d never believe I’m a top.”

  I don’t believe it either. What an odd, topsy-turvy idea. Koa had certainly proven himself with a cane. He dressed the part. Acted the part. Theo looked into his haunted black eyes and mouthed, “You aren’t, are you?”

  A smile quirked Koa’s lips. “My relationship with power dynamics is complicated right now.” Koa’s bare whisper tickled his ear.

  “Mm. Mine too.” He shivered.

  “Bad shit has a way of changing you.”

  “Tell me about it?” Theo reached over and switched on the clock radio. He found a station he could stand and put the volume loud enough to keep their conversation private even if Albert had bat ears. “I told you I’m into Plummetry, right?”

  “What the fuck is Plummetry?

  “Plummet to Soar. You know, the book I gave you? I’ve had to prove how tough I am all my life because my dad was just waiting for me to put on a skirt and dance for tourists.”

  Koa’s hand fell away. “Fuck you.”

  “I know how bad that sounds now. But it wasn’t me, man. I’m not—” He swallowed nausea not entirely caused by pain. “Whenever I squeeze my eyes shut, I can still hear Dad calling me a fucking pussy. Telling me I better be a real man in the modern world and not some… hula girl.”

  “That fucker.” Koa balled his fist. “I didn’t know.”

  The words still hurt. Theo had done everything his father asked of him—passed every test, won every battle, achieved every goal—and he’d still never pleased him.

  “You think he could take five like that?” He wanted to pound his chest. “I’m an even bigger badass than my dad because every day, I carried the knowledge that I’m nothing like him and I did that shit anyway. And then he dies in the line, Mom gets remarried, and everything blows up in my face—”

  “Theo—”

  “I finally let myself ask….” He chose his words carefully. “And I wasn’t who I thought I was.”

  “Who is?”

  “You are.” Tentatively, Theo kissed Koa’s nose, his eye, his cheek. The half smile that wasn’t buried in the pillow.

  “You seem pretty badass to me,” Koa said.

  The man was too sweet, and his words burned Theo’s eyes. “Badass and dumbass are a pretty awful combination.”

  “Agreed. You were a fucking dumbass to follow me.” Koa cupped his cheek. “I wish you were anywhere but here, Te. It’d be a lot easier for me.”

  “I’m sorry I stepped in your shit. Can you Reader’s Digest it?”

  Koa mouthed, “Human trafficking, extortion, bribery, money laundering, and possibly”—he leaned so close Theo could practically taste him—“violations of sanctions against North Korea.”

  “No fucking way.” Theo’s heart sank, even as Koa’s nearness made it beat harder.

  “That’s why I don’t understand how you got within a mile of our meetup last night. There’s supposed to be a fucking alphabet soup’s worth of agencies in on this. There should have been lookouts, there should have been people in place to prevent you—”

  “Shh… okay. That goes in the rearview. You can’t change what’s behind you.” Theo laid his hand over Koa’s. “We’re in this thing now. Shouldn’t we decide what to do about it?”

  “When Freddie gets here, we can regroup. Wait until then.” He bit his lip. “I don’t see much choice.”

  “There’s always a choice.” Theo wished he could roll onto his back and offer Koa a really good choice. Like Koa screwing him to safety through their mattress. Instead, he reached over and skimmed his hand up Koa’s inseam—a nice, long trip that ended at a gratifying hard-on. “Got any ideas?”

  Koa’s worried frown faded a little. Not enough.

  He stroked fingers lightly over Koa’s cock. “Come on, Woodie. Seems like this could use a little a
ttention.”

  “Stop.” Although he said the word, Koa caught his hand and kept it right where it was.

  “Really? Consent is key, here. I think you said stop.” Theo tried to get his hand back and failed. He lifted his head. “And you need to let go if that’s the case. ’Cause it seems like—”

  Koa’s mouth came down hard enough to bruise, stopping Theo’s words, his thoughts. He unbuttoned his jeans and used Theo’s hand to show him how he liked his dick jacked. When Theo got it right, Koa let his hand glide along with each stroke while Theo concentrated on kissing the lips he’d dreamed about half his life.

  Every kiss reinforced the conclusion: Koa was the one for him. He clung to Theo like a drowning man and kissed like Theo was made of air. He drank Theo, consumed him, while they pumped his cock together—as gratifying for him as he hoped it was for his hand-job-ee, Theo fell just a little bit more.

  Koa’s hot breath fanned his lips. “Gonna.”

  “Go, baby. I want you to.” Theo swallowed Koa’s kisses and cries and kept pumping his cock until hot spend filled their palms. Koa brought both their hands to his lips to lick and kiss, and silently, Theo joined him.

  “This is plummeting,” he teased.

  “Hand jobs while waiting for the executioner?” asked Koa.

  “Making life count. I swear, it will change how you think about everything.”

  “Or not.” Koa rolled his eyes before closing them in a blissed-out, relaxed face. “I’ll read the goddamned book. But don’t hold your breath. Most of that self-help shit makes me wanna laugh my ass off.”

  “This one will too, I promise.”

  “Because they’re stupid,” Koa clarified.

  “Yeah, Detweiler’s a character.” Theo licked a bead of sweat from Koa’s neck. “But you won’t be sorry. Just read it.”

  Relaxed like that, naked and sweaty, Koa was a god. Exactly how Theo imagined he’d look, when he gave free rein to his thoughts. A thousand memories came roaring back. Playing, talking, dreaming. They had been so tight—as close as brothers and more—experiencing feelings that weren’t brotherly at all.