by Mia Watts
“I can’t leave without you. Please come back with me.”
“What else don’t I know?” Sam countered.
“You’re asking me to tell you information that could color the investigation.”
“I’m asking you,” Sam snapped, “to tell me pertinent details to sustain my current status as a living being. Oh, my God. If you fucking smile, I’ll make sure it’s your last for a while.”
“I’m not smiling.” Jude’s eyes continued to dance with humor. “This is a very serious situation.”
“Damn right it is.”
Jude took another step closer. It made staying angry at him difficult.
“Can you just,” Sam motioned away, “back up a little?”
“Why?” Jude asked, his voice dropping low.
“You know why.”
“Explain it to me.”
Sam didn’t feel like playing. He pushed passed Jude to keep walking. He heard Jude follow, but this time Jude kept his distance. Until it became comical. He stopped after several more minutes.
“Are you going to keep following me?” Sam asked.
“Yep.”
With a sigh, Sam faced him. “Can I just have a few minutes alone?”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
So all the control remained firmly in Jude’s hands. Hell, no, that’s not how Sam did things. He might not have any say in where they go, how long they stay, what Jude had to tell him, but he did have control over one thing, and he knew even relentless Jude was susceptible. Sam charged toward him. He got right in Jude’s face, deliberately invading his personal space. It was a petty battle of wills, but it was all Sam had and damn it, Jude made him hot.
Sam grabbed Jude’s cotton shirt and tugged him closer still. Lifting his chin the short inch to line their lips, Sam kissed him full on the mouth. He tasted the other man’s mouth meticulously, savoring the fullness of his lips and the tangy sweet flavor behind them when their tongues touched.
Jude gripped Sam’s shoulders. A swallowed moan from Jude made Sam smile. A familiar spinning muzzied his head with delicious heat. Kissing Jude Cheney was like drinking potent wine—flavorful, full-bodied, and mind-alteringly intoxicating.
Jude’s gut clenched. His cock hardened with each questing swipe of Sam’s tongue in his mouth. Sam broke the kiss and pushed him against a nearby tree. Dazedly, he registered that Sam was unbuckling his jeans and pushing the heavy fabric down his thighs as the piercing blue eyes held him captive.
With a wicked smile, Sam sank to his knees. Jude blinked uncomprehendingly. Of all he’d expected from Sam—from his job, from the act of fleeing for their lives—this wasn’t one of the moments he’d envisioned.
Hot, wet mouth closed on the tip of his cock, and Jude’s confusion fizzled beneath the heat of Sam’s welcome sexual onslaught. Jude’s head rocked back on his shoulders, resting against rough bark. His balls lifted, cuddled in Sam’s hand as the other hand fisted the base of Jude’s shaft. Sam’s tongue dipped into the hole at the tip of Jude’s cock and Jude couldn’t keep from touching him.
Jude laced his fingers in Sam’s spiky, preppy hair. He imagined that gorgeous pouting mouth wrapped around his shaft, and he had to see. He cracked his eyes open. Sam looked up at him unflinchingly, stealing Jude’s whole attention.
The hot little prep sucked Jude’s cock like he was born for it. Behind his closed, ringed lips, a playful tongue danced over the rim of his head and tasted the pre-cum leaking from the tip. Sam’s thumb stroked forcefully into Jude’s scrotum, rolling his balls and setting off a riot of lightning-like sensations.
Jude’s breath shuddered in his chest as Sam came off his cock and licked his lips. He pressed a kiss to the tip, dragged his tongue over the palm of his hand and pumped his fist on Jude’s length.
“I’m going to make you come,” Sam promised. “Right here in the middle of your protective custody. This is me saying fuck you to FBI secrecy.”
The words slowly registered. Sam was using sex to teach him a lesson? Fuck that. He tugged Sam’s hair. “Bullshit.”
Sam lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you don’t want this.”
Jude willed himself to say he didn’t. The words wouldn’t form.
Sam’s tongue licked Jude’s tip like a lollipop. “Fuck you, FBI.” He grazed his teeth on the rim. “Fuck you, Agent Cheney.” He swallowed, taking Jude down his throat before coming off again. “You wanted a kiss? You wanted me to follow orders?”
Jude watched the hypnotic way Sam’s mouth fucked the words he was using to seduce him. Part of him thought the vibe was all wrong, so wrong. Part of him couldn’t wait to see what Sam did next. Jude hadn’t been with a man in a long time. The job, the guys—it didn’t lend itself to relationships or gay acceptance.
No one would see them here. No one would know except Sam, and Sam already knew because of the kiss Jude hadn’t been able to help.
“Here’s an order, Agent Cheney. Come for me.”
Sam’s mouth closed on Jude’s cock. His cheeks hollowed, and he pulled off, then filled as he took Jude deep. His blue-eyed gaze never wavered. Jude lost himself in the rubbing pinked lips and swirling tongue, the challenge in Sam’s eyes and the, yes, the desire he saw there.
Sam rolled Jude’s balls, massaging behind them and running a teasing finger over his anus in surprise caresses that kept Jude grasping for a hold on his senses. His hips flexed, rocking into Sam’s sweet mouth.
Jude gasped for breath. Sam pushed up Jude’s shirt, raking his fingernails on Jude’s abdomen and once again toppling his defenses. It was the hum of satisfaction vibrating along his cock that caused Jude to give up his paltry attempts for self-control.
His head fell back as he gave himself over to Sam’s considerable talent. Jude couldn’t stop his hips from rocking into Sam’s face, fucking his mouth. Groans tore from Jude’s chest. His balls drew tight. Hot and cold shivered at the base of his spine. Another flicker over his anus and Sam pushed the end of his finger inside.
Jude shouted, bucking hard, fingers pulling the hair on either side of Sam’s head as cum raced up Jude’s shaft. It shot from him with stinging force. Sam clamped his mouth around the base, swallowing hungrily.
Sam cleaned Jude’s spent cock. He looked up with a knowing smile. “Good boy, Agent Cheney. Nice to see you follow directions.”
To his surprise, Sam got to his feet and walked toward the camp site, leaving Jude’s wet dick hanging and its owner flushed and flustered against a tree with his knees still trembling.
* * * *
Sam took the baked beans from Jude.
“Just in case you didn’t get enough protein,” Jude grumbled.
Sam pointedly looked at Jude’s groin. “I know where to get more.”
“Store’s closed.”
“Want to test that?” Sam asked. A man didn’t respond that well to a blowjob and not think about when the next one would happen.
Jude was back to shooting him dark glares like he had when they’d first met. Now Sam knew enough to recognize that Jude’s brooding stemmed from being attracted to him and not being happy about it.
That, Sam could handle. He took a big bite of beans.
Jude put another log on the fire. “We have a three-mile hike to a clearing west of here. A chopper will take us to a new safe house.”
“Good to know.”
Sam used a branch to turn his shoe so that the fire could dry another angle. His socks were draped over a rock. They were nearly done. He busied himself with the little things to keep from thinking about sharing a tarp tent with Jude later tonight. Playing the seducer was easy in the moment, but ignoring the chemistry between them and the fact that Sam really wanted to get his hands on Jude’s cock again didn’t exactly make for easy sleeping.
“How did they find us?” Sam asked.
“We don’t know.”
“They agent who spotted them approaching didn’t catch them?”
Sam winced. It was all so surreal. He kept expecting someone to tell him this was the plot of a movie of the week, but they kept getting hit with variables.
Jude met his gaze. “It kept the agent from following. He did radio in a description. The cabin was searched. Nothing was touched. The tracks don’t even go to the cabin. They lead directly to the boat lock.”
Sam’s brow furrowed. “What does that mean?”
“It means they knew where we were going. They anticipated our escape route.”
“How could they possibly do that?” Sam asked.
“They couldn’t without being told.”
“Someone told them where we’d go? Why?”
“Great question,” Jude said.
“With an answer, right? You’re going to tell me that you have an answer?”
Jude shook his head.
“I’m in a cop flick,” Sam announced. “I’m in a bad cop flick, complete with a mole.”
Jude looked at him a little uncertainly. “Are you going to flip out again?”
“Why, so you can kiss me?”
“Eat your dinner.” Jude got up, checked his gun, and slipped into the woods.
“A Cheney in the woods with a gun doesn’t reassure me!” Sam yelled after him.
Sam finished the last of his sandwich and beans. He chugged back some water, saving a bit to brush his teeth with the travel brush thoughtfully packed by his abductor. Jude joined him back at the camp as Sam was climbing under the low lean-to. The pine barrier between him and the ground was surprisingly comfortable.
Jude banked the flames and climbed in beside him. His back bumped Sam’s, and Sam really wanted to lean back against its strength, but he’d made such a point of showing he didn’t trust the FBI, sinking against the comfort of one of its warriors seemed like too much of a concession.
“Good night, Sam,” Jude murmured.
Sam closed his eyes. Despite all his objections, he did feel safer with Jude beside him.
* * * *
The next morning, Jude nudged him to wakefulness. “We gotta move.”
“Good morning to you, too.”
Sam had time to take a leak, pull on his dried shoes and pick up his water bottle. He’d have to brush on the run since Jude had gotten up before him to break down the camp. There was almost no sign that they’d stopped there for the night.
Jude tucked the army green bags into the upside-down canoe, then hid the canoe. Even the duffle bag was ditched for the FBI cleanup crew to collect later. They reached the clearing in an hour and a half, hanging out on the fringes of the forest until they heard the distinctive whop-whop of the huge military chopper.
“Go!” Jude shouted, racing at Sam’s side across the clearing.
Popping gunfire came out of nowhere. Sam nearly stopped in confusion, but Jude grabbed his elbow and steered him into the chopper. It lifted out of reach of the guns. Jude looked out, searching the greenery below.
“I can’t see them.”
They flew through the air. Sam gripped his chair trying not to hurl. Jude sat down heavily, hitting his fist on the side of the bird.
“How did they find us?” Jude shouted above the roar. His gaze settled on Sam. Jude unbuckled and crouched over Sam. “Are you wearing jewelry? A watch?”
Sam took off his watch and handed it to him. Jude threw it out the open side of the helicopter.
“Hey!”
“They found us. This isn’t the time for sentimentality,” Jude reminded him. “What else are you wearing?”
There was nothing. Sam wasn’t even wearing his own clothes. Except for his shoes, everything had come from Jude’s duffle bag. He shook his head to indicate there was nothing else.
Jude’s gaze traveled over him. He had to be seeing the same thing Sam had. He stopped at the shoes. The red canvas shoes with white soles. He motioned for Sam to hand them over.
“My shoes?” Sam protested.
“The only time they weren’t right on top of us was while those shoes were wet.”
Sam toed off the shoes. Jude took them, pulling a pocket knife from his jeans. Jude cut into the sole, examining it carefully. He tossed the first shoe over and cut into the second one. Behind the brand name on the sole, Jude stopped, a strange look coming over his face.
He held up the shoe, pulling back the label. Sam leaned in. A black circle the size of a dime was slipped inside the rubber. Jude tossed the second shoe over the side.
“Do you have anything else?” Jude asked tightly.
Sam did another cursory search of himself. He shook his head. Everything else had come from the bag. Jude nodded succinctly, turned and moved to stand between the two pilots. He shouted something to one of the men that Sam couldn’t make out from here. When Jude got back to his seat and buckled up, he sat somberly.
Brown and gold fields raced beneath them. He’d been tagged somehow. The killers had been following him from the beginning. He’d be dead right now if it weren’t for Jude’s quick thinking and skill. He’d given Jude nothing but hell, and Jude had served him up with a sense of peace and safety in return.
They couldn’t follow him now. They wouldn’t find Sam this time. He’d be safe. It no longer mattered why he’d been swept out of his life, just that he still had one because of the FBI’s interference. Because of Jude’s interference.
The deafening roar of the blades tattooed its rhythm in his mind. The chase had taken its toll, and Sam stopped fighting the droop of his eyelids.
Chapter Four
Jude relaxed when Sam finally drifted off. He’d noticed the way Sam’s face had paled when he’d been shown the GPS tracking tag. But when Sam had stared out the open side of the Huey, it had been shame in the pull of his mouth that had almost brought Jude out of his chair.
It hadn’t been Sam’s fault. None of it was his fault. His boss was the one that made the contacts, photographed the targets, and sent them to the buyer. His boss had dragged him into it. Sam had been innocent.
In the context of doing his job, Jude had come across a lot of slick witnesses. Sure there were the ones who had genuinely been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but they usually knew what they’d witnessed. Sam had no idea.
He’d be called on to verify the delivery, the address, and identify the people he’d seen when delivering it. He didn’t know that they suspected Sam had seen one of the biggest underground mobsters of their time, masquerading as an influential political representative. Until now, the evidence against Paul Winston had been insubstantial. But Sam might be able to provide an eye witness either to Paul’s right-hand man, or the mobster himself.
It was Jude’s job to protect his charges. This time, Jude was taking his job personally. Sam was worth protecting, even pissed off and scared, Jude sensed that he and Sam would have connected if they’d met outside the current case drama Hell, they had definitely connected. Jude could still feel Sam’s mouth on him. He wanted to feel it again.
The chopper landed. A backup agent waved at them from the field beside an old sedan. Jude had worked with him before. It would be good to have him there, maybe it would suppress Jude’s desire to crawl into bed with Sam.
Sam’s head came up when they touched ground. He smiled sleepily at Jude. Jude felt it like a punch to the gut. God, he wanted to kiss those lips again.
Jude unbelted and motioned for Sam to do the same. “That’s our ride,” he said pointing to the waiting agent.
They raced across the field to the car. Sam got in the back. Jude claimed the front passenger seat.
“Sam, this is Agent James. He’s going to stay with us until you’re needed,” Jude told Sam.
“No, actually I won’t.”
Jude turned to his friend and fellow agent. Dread chilled the pit of his stomach. “What do you mean you won’t?”
“I’m being called to watch a potential secondary witness. It’s a kid
. She saw her parents gunned down. They think it’s the same guy.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. I’m here to set you up and help you hide. You two are on your own until relief comes.”
Sam sat forward. “The same guy who kidnapped Gregg Christiansen and put a hit on me?”
Agent James’ met his gaze in the rearview mirror. He nodded. “Same guy.”
A twisted sense of relief flooded Sam. It was horrible how the girl had become a witness, but the fact that there was now another person for the FBI to make their case on, was good. He still didn’t know what or who he’d seen. He wasn’t convinced that anything he said would help their case against the killer. With evidence provided by another person, this girl, wouldn’t that make it less likely for the mobster to get free?
But to lose your parents…it was heartbreaking.
“How old is she?” Sam asked.
“I’m sorry. That doesn’t concern you, Mr. Bahlson. When we need your input on the case, you’ll be brought in. That’s all you need to be concerned with right now.” Agent James reminded Sam a lot of Agent Cheney.
Sam sat back, thinking about a little girl being shuffled around rather like he’d been. If the hit man knew he’d been spotted, knew he could be positively identified, didn’t that make her a bigger target? Someone had thought it persistently important to kill Sam. What would they do with the little girl? Was she safe?
He sat forward again, resting his forearms on the car seats in front. “She needs more than one person watching her. Take Cheney with you. Leave me a gun to protect myself.”
Cheney turned around, a peculiar look in his eyes. “We can’t leave you unguarded.”
“What about this girl? I don’t know why this guy’s after me. She does. If they’d chase us into the woods and tag my shoe, what are they going to do to her? She needs you. She needs any agent she can get,” Sam reasoned earnestly.
“Sam,” Cheney began softly. “You’re just as important to this case. Agent James would be assigned to you, but he’s being recalled to help with the other witness. She’s well guarded.”
“But she’s just a kid,” Sam argued. “She has her whole life in front of her, and her parents have been brutally taken away. She needs more.”
