Stranded (Auctioned Book 2)

by Cara Dee

  “Oh my God,” Gray breathed. He pushed back in sensual movements. Whether it was to meet Darius’s tongue or rub his own cock against the sheets to get friction didn’t matter. Each thrust was fucking pornographic to watch.

  When Gray’s sexy sounds grew needier and his movements came faster, Darius switched to use his fingers. He crawled over Gray and reached for the oil, pouring a generous amount around his buried fingers. Then he rubbed the fluid over Gray’s ass, deep inside, while never breaking the languid speed.

  “You’re killing me, Dare.”

  Darius continued fingering him and kissed his way up Gray’s spine. “Feel how hard you make me.” He pressed his cock against Gray’s thigh.

  Gray’s groan bordered on a desperate whine, and it brought out a dirty fuck in Darius.

  “Do you need my cock, boy?”

  “Yes!”

  “How badly do you need it?” Darius withdrew his fingers and coated his cock, then positioned himself right at Gray’s ass.

  “So, so much,” Gray moaned, swiveling his hips to feel more, to get more. “I wanna feel you rip into me, filling me with your come.”

  Darius let out a low groan and pushed in a couple inches. His forehead landed on Gray’s shoulder. “And you’re only thinking of my cock?”

  “Only yours,” Gray whimpered. “More, Dare. Fuck, I gotta have it.”

  Darius gave it to him, burying himself balls deep in one swift thrust.

  For the next several moments, everything was about them. No one else existed. They teased each other, stroked and kissed every inch they could reach, changed positions, rolled around, made out wildly, and brought one another back from the edge many times over.

  Gray gasped as his back hit the mattress, and Darius pushed his cock deep inside, immediately picking up where they’d left off a second ago when Gray had been on top.

  Sweat glistened across their torsos, and Darius couldn’t tear his gaze away. He’d even switched on the lamp on his nightstand to be able to see his knucklehead better. He didn’t wanna miss a fucking thing.

  “Look at me, baby.”

  Gray’s eyes flashed open, and he reached up to kiss Darius hard. “I’m so close.”

  “You wanna come for me?”

  Gray nodded furiously, his blunt fingernails digging into Darius’s shoulder blades. “I can’t freaking deal. You’re too hot.”

  Darius smiled, completely out of breath, and fucked him a little faster. It wouldn’t take much to lose it; he’d been right there for several minutes.

  “I’m gonna come so fucking hard.” A growl emanated from Darius’s chest as he started losing his battle.

  Gray’s sounds turned into an endless string of moans, each thrust making him go louder. “Oh fuck, Darius. Now—now, now, fuck.”

  Darius batted away Gray’s hand and took over stroking his cock, and the orgasm crashed down instantly for both of them. Ropes of come shot out of Gray’s cock, soaking his stomach and Darius’s hand.

  Darius screwed his eyes shut and rocked jerkily, his cock throbbing with each release until he was spent and weak in the damn knees.

  Before he lost the last of his strength, he drew out his cock carefully and shifted off of Gray’s body. He landed on his stomach and spent the next few minutes trying to control his breathing. Jesus, he wasn’t twenty anymore. But holy fuck, that was probably the best sex he’d ever had. What did that say about him?

  Gray recovered a little quicker, and he cuddled close to Darius and made some sleepy noises. “Wake me up when you’re ready for round two, sex-god. That was…indescribable.”

  Darius exhaled a laugh and scrubbed a hand over his face. “As wonderful as you are for my ego, I think a round two anytime soon would legitimately kill me, boy.”

  Gray grinned sleepily. “You’re so old, Daddy.”

  “Shut up, you little shit. You’re barking up the wrong tree if that’s your kink.”

  That made Gray laugh. “It’s not, but it’s funny to mess with you. You get so adorable.”

  Darius couldn’t even pretend to be mad. Instead, he indulged in some staring since Gray had closed his eyes.

  “Wait.” Gray cracked one eye open. “What would be my kink? Calling you Daddy or older men?”

  “The former.” It felt weird to even say it, and Darius wasn’t a prude. He’d tried some shit over the years, and it wasn’t like Ryan had ever been secretive about his…proclivities. Or Madigan, for that matter. Shit. Darius surrounded himself with some dirty bastards.

  “Good,” Gray murmured and crept closer for a kiss. “Because older men are my crack.”

  Darius narrowed his eyes, and fuck if he had any idea where he got the energy from, but before he knew it, Gray was on his back, and Darius was hovering over him.

  “Men, plural?”

  Satisfaction lit up Gray’s eyes. “God, you’re sexy when you get like this.” He cupped one of Darius’s cheeks and kissed him passionately. “You beat ’em all, baby. You’re my hero, remember?”

  Darius felt ridiculous, but he basked in the attention and kissed Gray back.

  “Fuck,” Gray groaned. “I’m losing my mind, Dare. What’re you doing to me?”

  A better question was what the fuck Gray was doing to Darius.

  He didn’t even bother responding, too busy kissing his way down Gray’s chest.

  Maybe round two wasn’t that far off, after all.

  Eighteen

  Over the next week, too much happened. Too many little things. Tiny things, really. Darius watched from the sidelines but threw in a patient reminder here and there for the boys not to go forward too fast.

  A small thing like eating at a food court instead of the hotel restaurant. Cole didn’t want to admit the busy place had triggered him, though he’d been wound tight when he’d returned with his family.

  Same thing happened to Tai when he and his dad went to a public beach. It’d been an extra warm day for being January, and they’d taken off with sandwiches and towels. Three hours later, after Darius had already been sitting in the lobby waiting an hour, Tai barged through in the middle of a rage fit.

  For Gray, it was family and friends. Isla and Jack had returned home, along with Aiden and Gage. Work and other responsibilities called, not to mention Isla’s due date was fast approaching. There were promises of sleepovers and dinners as soon as Gray came home, and then it was fairly quiet for a couple days. They focused on answering questions, talking to counselors, and relaxing with family.

  Until friends arrived. Well, Gray insisted they were all family, and Darius shot back that he needed to learn the difference between people he loved and actual family. The Hayes bunch arrived, a family the Nolans were close to. Abel was one of them, as was Madigan. Then Abel’s parents and sister. Everyone had been worried sick and yada-fucking-yada.

  Comfort could be conniving. Gray lit up like the sun when he got to spend time with everyone he’d missed, but Darius’s focus was on the consequences. How tired Gray was at the end of the day, how irritable and sensitive he became.

  If Gray hadn’t spent every night with Darius, Darius would’ve lost his shit. He became a pseudo-therapist who did damage control, something that had less effect with each day that passed.

  Gray refused to admit that being around so many people was part of his growing agitation.

  Two days ago, Darius noticed another change that he was…well, not against, but actually, yeah, he was against it.

  Oscar’s parents were taking him on a vacation to “unwind and reconnect with his family.” Well-intended, Darius was sure, though it was too fast. If it’d been a cabin in the wilderness, maybe…but not a couple weeks in Rome. A new setting didn’t erase the former. Italy wasn’t going to replace old horrors; it was going to push a concrete Band-Aid atop an open gash that needed air to heal.

  All Darius could do was point out to Oscar in private that taking things slowly—and meeting with the counselor—was the best suggestion.

  T
he kid was adamant. He had family in Italy, he said. He wanted to get away.

  The agents in charge of the case were slowly but surely outsourcing tasks to local authorities, and Oscar’s parents would now be in contact with people from their hometown. And they took it as closure of some sort, when it was anything but. The case had just been born, for chrissakes.

  Now they had the media to worry about too. It’d gotten to the point that the Feds had considered pulling everyone from the hotel and using a safe house. It was still an option if it got worse. Everyone’s anonymity was the priority because it offered protection. And if reporters got a whiff of their location, all of that was in jeopardy.

  Next were Fil and Rob. They wanted to go home and put all this behind them.

  It’s not going to work.

  Darius was on the fence about Fil’s grandmother. Bless her, she was a strong force who wanted what was best for Fil, and she’d reassured Darius that Fil would get all the help he needed…through their church.

  Last time he checked, spiritual counselors and psychiatrists didn’t necessarily share the same education.

  Darius scratched his jaw and tapped his keycard against the front desk in the lobby. After another day of interviews here in town and then being stuck in traffic to and from Miami, he was fucking done.

  Anxiety was rising. He was losing control. The boys were, as predicted, scattering. Temporary security, whether it was provided by agents or through the private sector, didn’t matter.

  Before Darius’s siblings had gone home the other day, Ethan had not-so-jokingly said Darius had to work on his trust issues. Darius disagreed. Law enforcement needed to work harder to earn that goddamn trust.

  “I apologize for the wait, Mr. Quinn.” A man appeared from the back.

  “No worries. Got anything for me today?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did see something with your name. Let me see if it’s what you’ve been waiting for.” He disappeared again, only to return with a small box and a triumphant grin. “Could this be it? Third day’s a charm.”

  Let’s hope.

  Darius accepted the box and noted the return address with a sigh of relief. San Diego. Good. It was from Ramirez. “That’s the one. Cheers.”

  On the way to the elevators, he spotted Nikolaj and his older brother, Sasha. The two were very similar, only Niko’s hair was a shade or two lighter. Sasha had Niko’s build, and it wouldn’t surprise Darius if Niko had learned cage fighting from his brother. If it weren’t for the black-framed glasses they wore, they’d be the definition of street thugs.

  Gray had been surprised the first time he’d seen Niko put on glasses. Then he’d called him Clark Kent.

  “Hey, kid.” Darius jerked his chin at Niko, who looked up and met Darius halfway. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m all right.” He nodded and tucked his hands into the pockets of his sweats. “Did you hear Lee went home?”

  Fuck. Him too?

  Ah, Christ. That was why Lee had made a point to speak to Darius after breakfast. Lee’s parents had been there too, again with the hugs and gratitude that never failed to make Darius uncomfortable.

  It’d been a goodbye.

  Darius’s jaw ticked with tension, and he shook his head grimly. “I wish they’d all slow the fuck down.” He glanced over at Sasha, then back to Niko. “What are your plans?”

  “We’re staying a few more days.” Niko looked to his brother, who nodded once. “Agent Donahue wanted an address from us for our contact person, so that’s sorta what we’re waiting for. We have an aunt in Seattle who’s letting us stay a while. She’s gonna talk to the agents after the weekend.”

  Darius frowned, studying the boys. They should be in college, or about to graduate, not…whatever it was they’d been doing on the streets. The struggles were clear as day. He’d seen the scars on Nikolaj’s body, many of them older than what he’d sustained while in captivity. It was Niko’s way of thinking too. He had the mind-set of someone who lived day-by-day and constantly watched his own back.

  “Well, I gave you my number,” Darius said. “If you boys need help with work and a place to stay, let me know. I live a couple hours north of Seattle.”

  They exchanged another glance. “We appreciate it,” Niko said with a small smile. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  “Good. Get some rest.” Darius clapped Niko’s shoulder, then continued toward the elevators with his package. On the way up, he opened the box and dug out an envelope under a shit-ton of shredded newspaper.

  The elevator dinged, and Darius got rid of the box in a bin right outside. He figured Gray would be the most distracted right now when he was with his family that had magically expanded with the Hayeses arrival.

  Inside the envelope were three trackers. He flipped the bottle cap in his hand and brushed his thumb over the plastic on the inside. Glorious, glorious technology. He’d never understand it, but he appreciated the fuck out of it. It looked like an ordinary bottle cap from a beer. An Irish stout, he noted with amusement.

  The other two trackers consisted of razor-thin wires stuck onto the backs of two strips of tape that looked like butterfly bandages.

  This was where technology was less glorious. Phones these days rarely opened. Back in the day, trackers were hidden underneath the battery. Today, there was hacking, apps, and signal tracking. But Darius had gone old-school in case Gray turned his phone off. And his new iPhone had a case, so Darius would stick one of the trackers inside it.

  The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on Darius. One of the few things he got heated about defending in politics was the Fourth Amendment, and here he was…about to violate the hell out of Gray’s privacy.

  In Darius’s defense, he had probable cause on his side. It was his excuse, and he was sticking to it.

  Tucking the trackers carefully into his jeans, he knocked on the door to the Nolans’ hotel suite.

  Chloe opened the door and smiled. “Hi, Darius. We just ordered a bunch of snacks. Come on in.”

  There was no denying that Chloe was a hospitable woman. Even when he wasn’t expected, he was welcomed like family.

  “Are you here to see Gray?” she asked.

  “Yeah, and…just to say hey.” He managed a polite smile and walked farther in. The suite revealed a full house. Gray, Abel, Gabriel, and Gideon were on the large sofa watching a movie. Abel’s baby sister was half asleep and sprawled across both Abel and Gray. Chloe joined Abel’s mother in the kitchen area, and Madigan was on the terrace with Abel’s father.

  Too many people, too many people, too many people. It didn’t fucking matter that they all adored Gray. This was gonna exhaust him sooner rather than later.

  Everyone was dressed in beachwear. They’d come here to see Gray, but while they were here, they “might as well enjoy the sun.” It didn’t work that way. To Gray, there was no room for “might as well.”

  “Hi, Darius,” Adeline said. Same motherly smile there. “No Mrs. Hayes crap today, okay? It makes me feel old.” And old she was not. It was part of a growing discomfort. Darius was older than most of Gray’s family members.

  What if they knew Gray was spending his nights with Darius?

  “Noted. Adeline.” He smirked faintly.

  “You did it!” She grinned.

  Gray was smiling lazily from his spot on the couch. “Hey, gorgeous.”

  That fucking kid. He lived to make Darius uncomfortable around others.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Shit-stirrer.”

  Gray snickered and nudged Abel. “No, that’s him. He’s the troublemaker. I’m the ass-shaker.”

  “Word.” Abel smirked and bumped Gray’s fist. “Darius sure as shit is gorgeous, though. He’d make you a good Daddy.”

  For chrissakes.

  Gideon made a gagging sound.

  “I swear to Christ, son,” Adeline warned.

  “Madigan,” Darius hollered. Madigan poked his head in through the terrace door. “Put a leash on your toy.”


  “La-la-la-la-la-la.” Adeline stuck her fingers in her ears. “I still don’t need to know my son’s bedroom activities.”

  Gray and Gabriel guffawed.

  Madigan flashed a grin at Adeline, then jerked his chin at Abel. “Behave.”

  As if that was gonna help.

  Chloe was struggling to withhold her laughter. “Darius, please help yourself to a drink. They’re on the table. Or, beer in the fridge.”

  Perfect, and then he could escape the madness for a bit. Walking over to the table, he made sure to block the view of the TV; he wasn’t so old that he couldn’t enjoy being a dick. He took his time pouring a glass of Coke. Even more time to get ice cubes from the ice bucket. One. By. One.

  “Are you kidding!” Gray cried out, laughing.

  “I want ice,” Darius replied mildly. Out of the corner of his eye, he’d already spotted Gray’s phone. He was pretty sure. Or was it Abel’s? Fuck, he’d just have to see for himself. He moved a little to the side, shifting closer to the phone.

  “Duuude,” Abel complained. “This is the best part.”

  “Blame Gray.” That was all it took for the boys to start bitching at each other. Darius swiped the phone and straightened without anyone noticing.

  “Wait!” Gray exclaimed. “He’s trying to make us turn on each other.”

  “It’s surprisingly easy,” Darius drawled and took a sip of his soda.

  Abel huffed, then narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you. Do you want a repeat of when I got here?”

  Fuck no. Abel had hugged Darius almost as long as he’d hugged Gray. There had been tears.

  “Good talk,” he replied. “Bye.” He took his leave in the midst of laughter and suppressed a sigh. It was very easy to see why Gray thought this reunion was a good idea—and why Chloe hadn’t argued much. Distractions were vital to break up the heavy, and seeing Gray laugh and joke around was goddamn addictive.

  But…small doses, people. Small doses.

  All it took was an innocent suggestion. Like yesterday, Abel had expressed he wanted to go to the pool right after Gray had returned from the field office and a session with a counselor. Abel hadn’t even asked Gray specifically; he’d just said he wanted to go. And it’d been enough for Gray to be tempted. He was tired and emotionally wrung-out, and instead of resting and taking it easy, he’d gone to the damn pool.