Jack's smile was a little self-deprecating. "I do trust you, Carson. It's the rest of the world I've got a problem with."
"I wish I could convince you, but I guess only time can do that. Come on, let's pay the bill and walk off the chicken." Carson rose from his chair, pulling Jack along and kissing him soundingly. "Just something to get me through the night," he said cheekily when they parted, and Jack couldn't suppress a laugh as he followed him to the cashier.
After they left the restaurant, they walked slowly down the streets of Jawara City, shoulders touching lightly, fingers brushing on occasion, sometimes in silence, sometimes in lively conversation. The sky was turning a lighter shade of blue when they finally reached Carson's hotel.
# # #
"Final boarding call for flight 396 to New York. This is the final boarding call for flight 396 to New York."
Carson looked at the six downcast faces before him, and tried to smile encouragingly. "Hey, come on, guys. I'll be back in no time at all, you'll see."
"We know that," Jackie said. "But we sort of got used to having your ugly mug around."
Carson's lips quirked. "Thanks. I think."
"Oh, for Pete's sake. Let's get this over with, or Carson will end up missing his flight," Jarod said, pumping Carson's hand heartily. "Carson, have a safe trip. Call Kit's place once in a while, to let us know how you're doing."
"And when you're coming back," Brendan added, taking his turn saying goodbye. "Be careful out there."
"I will." Carson laughed outright as Jackie gave him a very noisy kiss on the cheek. "Jackie!"
She winked. "Take care of yourself, man. Remember it's a jungle out there."
Carson laughed again. "I'm beginning to realize that." He looked at Vivian with feigned suspicion. "You're not going to kiss me, are you?"
She snorted, but there was amusement in her blue eyes. "Not likely." She took his arm in a warrior's grip instead, clasping his forearm and meeting his gaze. "You better come back soon, Carson. You wouldn't want us to fly to New York and hunt you down."
Carson shuddered theatrically. "I don't think the natives could handle that," he deadpanned, grinning when she snorted again.
"My turn," Roger said, shaking Carson's hand. "Don't take too long to get back, you hear? And take care of yourself."
Carson nodded. "You too."
The others moved a discreet distance away, and Carson found himself alone with Jack, or as alone as they could be in the busy airport's waiting room.
"I guess this is it," Jack said softly.
"Yeah," Carson replied in the same tone. "I promise I'll call every day. I'll try your cell, or leave a message with Kit. Whatever it takes, Jack."
"I'll miss you."
Carson wrapped his arms around him and hugged him tightly. "I'll miss you too, Jack." He stepped back but Jack wouldn't let him go. Carson glanced around nervously when he saw that Jack was staring at his lips. "Jack, there're people arou--"
"I don't care, Carson. I really, really don't care," Jack interrupted, leaning down and kissing him with fierce determination.
Carson moaned, relaxing into the kiss. He parted his lips, deepening the kiss, his embrace and passion easily matching Jack's in intensity. When they finally parted they were both flustered, but smiling.
"That's better," Jack said, his thumb stroking Carson's bruised lips.
"Carson?"
Carson whirled around at the sound of the familiar voice, reeling at the sight of the man standing before him. "Bruce?" he hissed, astonished.
"What are you doing here?" Bruce asked with a slight frown.
Carson blinked, taking a step back. "What am I doing here?" he repeated, incredulously.
For an absurd moment he was afraid N'bulungi's toxin was still coursing through his system. He was filled with such a blind fury, that it was almost frightening. Carson breathed sharply for a few seconds, trying to control his temper. He looked at Bruce, trying to comprehend what he had ever seen in the man, because right now he could hardly stand to look at him.
He took in the tall, muscled body, the perpetually disheveled brown hair, and the wide almond eyes and frowned. Had it really been all about appearances? Had he really been that shallow? Or maybe conformist? Maybe working as a detective and having someone to spend the nights with had seemed enough at the time? Had he settled for what was dangled in front of him instead of searching for more?
"I wasn't expecting to see you here at the airport," Bruce said, looking bemused.
"What are you doing here, Bruce?" Carson asked in a low tone; trying to rein in his anger wasn't working. He could still feel it inside of him, waiting for the right moment to strike.
"I came back for you. I missed you."
Carson snorted. "Of course you did." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Now, let's try this again. Why did you come back?"
Bruce fidgeted awkwardly. "Your father called. He said he couldn't get a hold of you, so he called my office. He wanted to remind you of your mother's birthday party in two weeks time. I... I guess I sort of let slip what happened between us. He, uh, he threatened to get me in trouble with Internal Revenue if I didn't bring you back."
Carson pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a migraine coming on. Typical of his father; couldn't be bothered to call his own son to find out how he was doing. But God help them all if Carson dared to miss one of the family's get-togethers. Whatever would their friends say? And as for Bruce...
"Let me get this straight," Carson began, surprised at how dangerous he sounded. "You leave me alone in the middle of the fucking jungle, take off to New York without even a note goodbye, you don't call or try to find out if I'm okay. And now you come back all smiles and giggles and expect me to go back with you because you're afraid my father's going to sic the IRS on you?"
"I guess. Look, Carson, I don't see what's the big deal. It's not like we haven't fought before. You're obviously okay. And busy," he added, leering at someone over Carson's shoulder. "I wouldn't mind having a go at him, myself. Maybe the three of us can have a little fun together before we return to New York?"
Carson followed Bruce's line of vision and knew he had missed quite a lot during his argument with Bruce. Jack was being restrained by Brendan and Jarod, and looked ready to beat the socks off Bruce. Then Carson realized that Bruce was ogling Jack and lost what little composure he had left. One second he was back glaring at Bruce, the next he was looking down at him, watching as Bruce knuckled the corner of his mouth and examined the blood there.
"You slugged me," Bruce exclaimed.
"Keep your eyes and comments to yourself, or I'll do it again," Carson threatened. "And for your information, the only reason why I'm okay is pure, dumb luck. After you left, I was attacked by cannibals. The only reason why I'm not jungle fertilizer right now is because I was captured by mercenaries, who by the way, wanted to ask you for a ransom."
"I didn't know that," Bruce muttered sullenly.
"That's because you were too busy flying over the Atlantic at the time." Carson released a deep breath through clenched teeth, trying to calm down. He wasn't proud of his blow up, but then Bruce had always been able to bring out the worst in him. "I was going to go home, talk to you, try to have a rational conversation, but I think that's beyond us. Take the first plane out of here and go back to New York, Bruce. We're done."
Apparently Bruce wasn't ready to give up. "What about you?"
Carson glanced up at the huge, circular watch on the wall and groaned. "I missed my flight."
"That means we can still talk."
"I don't think you heard Carson the first time, Fraser," Jack spoke for the first since Bruce had showed up. He was no longer being held back by Jarod and Brendan, but he didn't look any less dangerous. "You've got nothing left to talk about."
Bruce scowled. "Stay out of this, jackass."
"Watch your tongue. Don't make me hurt you again," Carson growled. "What the hell do you want to talk about?"
"Us.
"
"There isn't an us. Not anymore."
"Fine. But I still want to talk to you," Bruce insisted obstinately.
Carson sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. "You're not going to give up, are you?" At Bruce's stubborn expression, he relented. "Fine, we'll talk. But not here and not now."
He looked around, dismayed to see they had gathered quite the curious crowd. The waiting room sounded strangely hushed, as if every person there was holding their breath, waiting on the next word.
"Wonderful," he muttered. He turned to Bruce. "There's a bar here in town, the Jungle Tavern. Meet me there tonight at ten. Now, get out of here, give me some time to calm down."
Bruce hesitated, then nodded curtly and disappeared amongst the dissipating assembly of busybodies. Once he was out of sight, Carson collapsed into one of the plastic chairs with a heartfelt imprecation.
"Are you okay?" Jack asked, sitting next to him, a hand resting on Carson's knee in silent comfort.
Carson blinked, surprised that his vision was a little blurry. "Yeah," he sighed. "I don't get it. Right now, I don't even like him."
"It doesn't matter, Carson," Jack said, gently. "You have a history together. It's still got to hurt that he came back because he was afraid of your father, not because he was worried about you."
"I guess." He met Jack's gaze. "Are you okay with this? I know one of the reasons why you were unhappy about my going back was because of Bruce. With him here..."
Jack grinned. "Believe it not, your reaction to him actually helped. I liked the jealous, possessive thing you had going there. Quite the turn on."
Carson laughed quietly. "Yeah?"
"Oh, yeah. That said, I don't intend to leave your side tonight at the bar."
Carson looked into warm hazel eyes. "Hmm. You're right, that jealous, possessive thing is a turn on. I feel like fuck--"
"Ah, ah," Roger interrupted with a grin. "Too much information, kiddies." He grew serious. "You guys all right?"
"Everything's fine, Roger," Carson assured him. "I guess I should see about exchanging the ticket. And I need to make sure my luggage doesn't go missing when it arrives in New York without me. I also need to rent a room at the hotel again. They're going to think I'm nuts."
"You're not going back to the hotel," Jack said.
Carson raised an eyebrow at that. "I'm not?"
"Why bother? Your trip was just postponed, not cancelled. You can get a seat on tomorrow's flight, and it'd be a waste to rent a room just for the night. Why don't you stay at Kit's flat instead?"
Carson thought it over. It would certainly make things easier; he was likely to spend most of the day with Jack anyway, and he would have to be at the bar at night to speak with Bruce. It wasn't as if he would get to spend any time in the hotel room.
"Why not? Let me take care of the ticket and my stuff and we'll go."
# # #
They left the airport thirty minutes later. The airline company had promised to keep Carson's luggage in New York, and he was scheduled to fly back the next morning. Now all Carson had to do was deal with Bruce and hope the asshole didn't want to return home on the same flight. The idea of being stuck in an airplane with Bruce, for God knew how many hours, was enough to raise his blood pressure.
"What's the game plan?" Jarod asked as they climbed down the stairs of the airport's main building. "You still want us to go to Njau and look for Jabulani?"
"Yeah," Jack answered, as they made their way to the parking. "I know it's a big place and the folks there aren't as familiar with us, but maybe you'll get lucky. If you do find him, I want no hands-on tactics, understand? Scare him, yes, hurt him, no. The last thing we need is for him to turn the tables on us and go to the cops with some tale about how we beat him up. So go easy."
Roger rubbed his hands together. "It shall be done. We should be back tomorrow morning, before Carson's flight."
A big, black man suddenly appeared from around the corner, nearly throwing Vivian off her feet as he ran past them.
"Hey, watch it!" she snapped.
The man didn't acknowledge her or look back, just kept on running. They had barely taken a step when two other men came racing from the direction of the parking lot, obviously chasing after the first man, their uniforms identifying them as policemen.
"I wonder what he's wanted for?" Jarod asked as they watched the three men disappear into another street.
"Who knows?" Roger replied. "Let's go, guys. It's still a long drive to Njau."
"Be careful," Jack said, as Roger, Jarod and Brendan jumped into Jackie's jeep and Roger gunned the engine.
"And take care of my baby," Jackie said with a glare. "I see one scratch on it and you're toast, Miles."
Roger gave her a wide grin and drove off with a loud screech of tires.
"He's so dead," Jackie snarled under her breath.
Jack chuckled. "You know he only does it to annoy you, Jackie. Come on, you can drive my jeep."
Carson settled in the back with Jack, while Vivian rode shotgun. He reached for Jack's hand, squeezing it lightly, and received a warm smile in return. Even with Bruce back in Jawara, Carson couldn't help but be thrilled that he got to spend another day with Jack. Even better, since he would speak with Bruce tonight, it would be one less thing to do in New York. Life was good.
# # #
Chapter Eleven
Carson followed Jack into the apartment, closing the door behind him. Vivian and Jackie had chosen to stay at the bar, something he was grateful for, because he really wanted to enjoy some downtime with Jack. As he finished locking the door, Carson was abruptly grabbed from behind in a crushing grip as two eager hands started roaming over his t-shirt. He moaned as his nipples hardened, and turned quickly to face his unrepentant assailant. He stared approvingly at the sight of Jack in tight black Levis, snug brown t-shirt, and leather jacket.
"Jack?" Carson looked at him in concern. Jack had stopped moving; he was just standing there, staring at Carson, not saying anything.
"Sorry. I was just admiring the view," Jack admitted, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he took in Carson's own tight jeans and green t-shirt.
Thinking that it might be more than that, Carson decided to give him a way out. "You still want to wait until I get back before we do this?"
Jack shook his head curtly. "No. I can't wait any longer," he said, pressing his body against Carson's and nibbling on his neck. "I want you."
"This has something to do with Bruce, hasn't it?" Carson guessed breathlessly.
"I won't deny he makes me feel a little possessive of you," Jack said ruefully. His eyes bore into Carson's. "But this is about us, you and me, no one else."
"Fair enough," Carson said, satisfied with the answer. He reached for Jack's leather jacket, pushing it off the broad shoulders. Jack offered no resistance as the t-shirt followed close behind, leaving his hair a sexy mess.
"My turn," Jack panted, and soon Carson's shirt was flying through the air.
Their lips locked together in a fierce, passionate kiss as clumsy hands worked buttons and zippers. They parted long enough to peel away jeans, and to toe off shoes and socks. Then they were all over each other again, kissing feverishly, hands sliding over smooth flesh, fingers carding through each other's hair, making love right there in the hallway, against the door.
Carson felt one of Jack's hands reach between them, finding his erection and pumping it expertly. He groaned at the firm touch, throwing his head back in ecstasy, beyond caring as it connected forcefully with wood. Jack seemed to agree with this new position, for his mouth fastened on Carson's neck, nibbling hard enough to leave his skin tingling.
Not really aware of what he was doing, but wanting Jack to experience the same pleasure coursing through him, Carson grasped Jack's hard cock, easily matching his lover's rhythm.
"Fuck," Jack groaned, sealing their mouths together anew, his free hand grabbing the back of Carson's neck, holding him a willing captive, and kissing him
breathless.
Carson felt his world spiraling out of control, helpless to know what was pushing him over the edge more effectively, the taste of Jack's mouth as it took ownership of his, the wonderful feeling of the strong body glued to every inch of him, or the hand pumping his cock fast and hard now.
Jack broke the kiss then, crying out as he came all over Carson's hand and stomach. But the huskiness and vulnerability in that small sound was enough to drive Carson to his own climax, Jack's name escaping his lips as he wound both arms tightly around the other man's frame.
Feeling weak and sated, they both slid down the door until they were sitting on the floor, still holding each other, both panting harshly.
"That was pathetic," Jack finally rasped. "I haven't come this fast since I was sixteen."
Carson leaned back tiredly, and chuckled. "Actually, I think our first time, as it were, was even worse."
"Damn," Jack muttered with a quirk of his mouth. "We're hopeless."
"You think we'll ever make it on a bed?" Carson asked with an impish expression.
Jack groaned. "God, I hope so. I'm getting too old for this shit."
Carson rubbed his thigh tenderly. "Jack, I've been thinking. I'll need a place to stay when I settle down here. You think Kit might be willing to rent this place? Or maybe sell it? I'd have to pay her in several installments, but it would be perfect. It's above our headquarters, so to speak, in the middle of town, and you guys could still sleep here when you had to. Especially you," he added with a leer.
Jack looked pensive. "I think I've got a better idea. Why don't we ask her if she'll sell us the apartment? I've got some money in the bank, myself. Not much, but it might be enough. You think you could pay for half?"
"If the price isn't too high. Remember I still need to come up with some kind of business." Carson licked his lips nervously. "Are you asking me to live with you?"
Jack touched Carson's cheek with the tip of his fingers. "Eventually. Right now it's too soon and I don't think we're ready for it. But the team uses this place enough as it is, it has become more ours than Kit's. It's time to make it official. In the meantime, I can sleep in one of the bunks in the next room, here with you, or back at the camp. It doesn't matter."
The Ripple Effect Page 13
