by J. M. Dabney
“Don’t Daddy me, Baby boy.”
He hid his amusement as he found the pack his two friends left him and shook out a camouflage cover and hid his bike away.
“Ignoring me isn’t going to save your ass later.”
“Now, Pure, I didn’t think that was your thing.”
A gravelly amused voice had him pulling his forty-five from his holster. Horace stepped forward with his hands up with Freddie aiming a twelve-gauge over the man’s shoulder.
“Horace, always a delight.” He put his weapon away and went to grab their pack, but Raul got to it first.
“Yeah, we hear that a lot,” Freddie replied, as he rolled his ice-blue eyes and lowered his weapon.
Freddie moved from behind Horace. Freddie watched them coolly and dragged his thick fingers through his heavily silver-streaked long hair. Tattoos covered every inch of exposed skin. The only thing ink-free were the two men’s faces, but the numerous scars rose thick from their cheeks, lips, and foreheads.
“The hot twins airdropped a bag for you last night. Our camp never gets this much excitement until Liv and his pretty-boy come to visit.” Freddie’s smirk was disturbing.
It was well known that Liv and Fielding went camping a few times a year, and his friends gave the recluses a show for their shared kinks.
“And I don’t need details.”
Yes, they made him uncomfortable most of the time, but after he needed some time away, he’d visited the two men. They were foster brothers, but other than that they didn’t talk much about the past. They could sit together with their shoulders touching and never say a word. It was as if they shared this mental connection. Automatically filling the other’s needs, a refill of coffee or a plate. He wouldn’t say that when the two men went to their tents that he didn’t have to take a walk. To be so isolated, having only the other for company, and hearing them pleasure themselves in their neighboring tents was embarrassing.
“Come on, we have a three-mile hike, and there’s rain coming.” Horace didn’t wait to see if they followed.
Everyone lapsed into silence for the start of the hike. He jumped slightly as Raul took his hand, lacing their fingers together. He turned to find Raul smiling at him and heat infused his cheeks when Raul lifted their hands to his mouth, brushing his lips to Pure’s knuckles.
“You come out here a lot?”
He didn’t miss the edge to Raul’s voice.
“No, maybe once a year or twice for the last four. No one is crazy enough to come into the woods knowing they live out here. They’re slowly building a cabin, I doubt they’ll ever finish it, but I help while I’m out here. It’s just something to keep them busy.”
“Have they ever touched you?”
“We don’t touch other people’s property without permission,” Freddie growled.
“I’m not property,” he protested, but only received twin grunts in reply.
“No, we all have our own tents. They keep my gear safe, so my tent and bag are already there. Sin and Saint were supposed to drop your supplies and a few special requests for me.”
“Sin and Saint?”
He hadn’t wanted to involve the Sheriff’s boys, but he hadn’t completely cut off ties. The Crew partners were bratty, and he needed a few allies.
“Pelter know?”
“Yes.”
“What the fuck, Pure?”
“He fought for you as much as he could, harder than the Trenton guys. He gave me all the information…called me when the transport left.”
“He could lose his job.”
“No, Horace and Freddie or Mom have been passing notes and taking them to Twitch. He sends them along, and Pelter destroys them after reading them. No electronic footprint. Everything I’ve purchased has been in cash. Weapons have all been bought from a dealer I know from the streets from my days with SWAT.”
He felt Raul’s disappointment in the way the man became quiet. Raul hated when he took risks. Before the shift in their relationship, he sensed that Raul was going to have a lot more to say about what he did. He’d survived long before Raul came into his life. His wounds had festered and scarred over, but he’d survived just fine.
The scents of a campfire reached him long before they arrived at the camp. There was a small clearing big enough for the small, rustic cabin and the camp situated at the base of the steps that led up to a big porch. Raul hadn’t said a word for an hour as they pitched his tent, placed their gear, pads and sleeping bags inside. Horace was working on dinner, and Freddie had taken off toward the lake for a bath.
Raul set up two camp chairs opposite the fire from Horace and Freddie’s. He smiled his thanks to Horace as the man tapped a metal bucket filled with warmed water for him to clean up. Horace nodded toward the sheet that was strung up from the porch for his privacy. He knew the man did it on purpose. They might be crazy, but they knew about pain and scars.
He dug out a change of clothes, a towel, and the biodegradable bar for hair, body, and shaving. The sun was just starting to set, but there was still plenty of light for him to wash by. He used the towel to grab the handle of the bucket and carried it to his private area. He stopped on the rubber mat and placed the bucket on the edge. Then he grabbed the metal cup where it was hung on one of the porches supports.
It didn’t take him long to get everything set up and started to strip his shoes and socks, but he froze as Raul joined him. He tried to even out his breathing as he waited for a fight—yet it didn’t come. He was in Raul’s arms, and the man held him tight as he captured his lips in a rough kiss. Strong hands were painfully fisting in his hair.
This wasn’t the gentle teasing ones Raul gave him since their first. Teeth sharply nipped his bottom lip, and Raul was removing his clothes without care. He didn’t even fight him. His cock was hard and aching. Every time he reached for Raul, his hands were pushed away and then his back hit the unfinished wall. He bit his lip to suppress his shocked yelp as Raul swallowed his length.
He looked down at Raul. The man was bobbing and softly groaning, then Raul dug his fingertips into his ass cheeks. He tipped his head back, crossed his arms over his face, and sunk his teeth into his forearm. He fucked Raul’s mouth and rose on his toes when Raul sucked hard when he tried to retreat. One minute he was on the verge of coming, then he was turned, and Raul’s face was buried between his cheeks. His nails clawed at the wood as he pressed his cheek to it.
He quickly grabbed Raul’s thick hair, and it was getting harder to keep quiet. Raul knew just how to play with his hole to make sure he didn’t panic. He thrust backward as he felt the push of Raul’s tongue, felt the pressure. When he would have begged for more, Raul was on his feet and pressed to his back.
“Baby boy”—Raul nipped his earlobe—”you almost made Daddy come too soon. You want to fuck Daddy, don’t you?”
If he was supposed to talk, it wasn’t going to happen, so he just nodded.
“I bet that thick cock would tear Daddy’s ass up.”
He froze, not believing what he heard.
“Daddy likes to be fucked, but I also know what my boy needs. You want to suck Daddy’s cock and play with his ass.”
He didn’t answer just turned then moved Raul. His hands shook as he removed Raul’s t-shirt, dropping it to rest on top of his clothes. He undid Raul’s jeans as he kissed the side of Raul’s throat, moving lower. His Daddy’s skin was hot and smooth, and then he was on his knees. He finished undressing Raul. He tipped his head back, and Raul’s fingers combed through his hair. He opened his mouth as his Daddy painted his lips with pre-cum. He sucked too hard and triggered his gag reflex.
“Easy, baby boy, good boys need to practice on Daddy first.” Raul wrapped his hand around all but a few inches. “Now, suck Daddy.”
He did, and it was odd. Raul had never asked him to give him a blowjob. The ring of Raul’s fingers and thumb stopped him, he curved his tongue beneath and pushed the head to the roof of his mouth. The loose foreskin teased his tongue a
s he sucked in a slow rhythm learning the feel and taste of Raul. Raul teased the corner of his mouth.
“My boy looks so pretty sucking Daddy’s cock.”
Slowly he realized that his Daddy was letting him take more, but just enough that he could bob along the length. He whimpered as he rolled the foreskin over the fat head and nibbled before sucking Raul in again.
“Shit, baby boy, that’s right.”
He drew his gaze upward to find Raul watching him with a look in his eyes he’d never seen before. It was soft, almost what he thought love would look like. He wanted to taste Raul, give the man pleasure. He wanted the moments where the outside wouldn’t intrude—reality wouldn’t take away what he’d just learned to accept. As he tightly gripped Raul’s ass cheeks, he started moving faster, increasing the pressure, and savoring every growl from above him.
Raul’s hand sunk deeper into his hair, twisting it around his fingers, and he took advantage. He ignored his gag reflex, the slight edge of awkwardness, and brought his hand to his cock. Jacking the length quickly as he played with Raul’s hole with the other. The hair tickled his fingers. Raul cursed and groaned. All the things he dreamed were coming true. He jerked off faster, and just as he came, Raul’s release filled his mouth. He swallowed greedily. Raul’s upper body leaned forward, and his Daddy hugged his head.
“God, baby boy. Shit, you made Daddy come too fast.”
He eased away as Raul straightened. He met his Daddy’s heavy-lidded eyes.
“Was I a good boy, Daddy?”
“The best.”
Raul knelt until they could kiss. His Daddy’s rough hands caressed his back, and too soon the kiss ended, but Raul didn’t just walk away. He stood there as Raul washed him tenderly from head to toe. Praising him with each caress and stolen kiss. He might not admit it out loud, but he knew their time was coming to an end. That memories were going to be all he had, but he’d rather have memories of being loved on—of being fulfilled—than nothing at all.
AN ENDLESS WHODUNIT
He could almost forget the clanging of a jail cell door was waiting to close behind him. The quiet of the woods allowed him to hear steps in any direction. Silence of forest animals hiding from danger like an alarm system. His boy was off with Freddie gathering firewood, and he was staring across the fire pit at Horace.
Horace’s curly black hair was cut short and was streaked with the littlest of silver. He was shirtless and excessively hairy, with partial sleeves of bloody and white skulls from his wrists up. If he wasn’t mistaken, there were a few new skulls since the last time he’d worked with the man.
“You taking care of Pure?”
He felt his brow furrow, and he frowned at the guttural voice. “What business is it of yours?”
“More than you think. We’ve been watching him a lot longer than you have.”
“He’s mine.”
“Ain’t saying he isn’t, he’s a good kid. Vicious and deadly, but sweet. He deserves a man who isn’t going to rot in jail or have a needle stuck in his arm.”
“I didn’t ask for him to break me out.”
“You don’t leave a man behind, especially someone who’s watched your back…kept your ass alive. Who have you fucked over so bad that they’d go to all the trouble to set you up? Ya’ see, the way I figure it, whoever is after your ass is already locked up and wants to take care of the job personally. And has the funds to slap down a six-figure price tag on your back.”
“Do you know how many people I’ve earned a bounty on?”
He’d been doing this most of his life, what else did he have? He’d been shot at, shot, stabbed, and one guy had tried to run him down with a semi. It wasn’t like he had a lot of friends. Never once had he thought someone was capable of putting a hit out on him, especially not one that extreme. It was the not knowing that was driving him the craziest.
He wondered if Pure had put himself on the line for the inevitable. He didn’t believe he was going to survive the outcome, and he hated the thought of leaving his boy behind. It was purely selfish. He didn’t want to think of another man touching—loving on—his boy, making all his dreams come true. That should be his job.
“Just has to be one, man. Some man lost his old lady because he went to jail. Casualty during the operation. Lots of reasons a man would want another dead. Sometimes it could be a man just breathed wrong.”
“How have you stayed out of jail this long?”
“Peaches is the best at her job.”
The casualness of Horace’s answer shouldn’t shock him, but it did. There was something dead in the man’s eyes, same with Freddie. They carried themselves like feral beasts going to war at any moment—just the span of a breath separated them from doing the unthinkable without regret or mercy. As they were no longer a part of society, they saw no reason to adhere to the rules. Even if they lived within the town limits, he couldn’t see them abiding by the laws of civilization. To them, murder was nothing more than the response to a threat. Old ways from ancient times where it was kill or be killed.
He’d learned that the recluses had been taken down on a double murder charge—a capital offense. Peaches got them off with a technicality. Law was gray. Only as effective as the person who could spin truth into the more beautiful lie.
“And I thought she’d get me out. Pure didn’t trust her to do so.”
“I wouldn’t know, but love makes ya stupid. Makes ya act impulsively. Some would kill for a person to go to these lengths to get them out.”
He leaned forward in the chair and rested his elbows on his knees and scrubbed his hands over his face. “I didn’t doubt he’d fight for me, but I didn’t want him putting his fucking freedom on the line for me. It was my time to do. As long as I knew he was out here, living his life…my stretch would be hard…probably wouldn’t survive it but my boy would’ve had a life. He doesn’t deserve to ruin his dreams for me.”
“That isn’t your choice. He might be your little, but he’s also a grown-ass man. With a wicked aim when he has his sniper rifle. We don’t know much about Pure’s history. Ain’t any of our business, but we recognize scars…ones that were put there in cruelty. You don’t take the choices of a person like that away. Sometimes it’s all we got…the power to decide whether we stand and fight, or we kneel and die.”
He jerked his gaze to the left as he heard twigs snap and Pure appeared with his arm full of wood, Freddie not far behind him. His boy was so sweet that when Pure caught him looking, his cheeks above his beard turned scarlet. He looked at Pure’s lips and remembered them wrapped around his cock. The way Pure learned how to please his Daddy.
They had called for rain earlier, so the two men piled the wood on a small platform beside the pit. The covered it with a bright blue tarp. Pure approached him.
“Boy,” he said as he tipped his head back.
Pure sweetly smiled with just a hint of shyness as his boy bent down to brush his soft lips to his. Then Pure took the chair next to his. They were both big men, and the one chair wouldn’t hold their combined weight. He’d have to wait until they could curl up in their zipped-together sleeping bags later.
“Horace had a theory while you were gone.”
“Yeah, what was that?”
“That the person who wants me is on the inside.”
“Makes sense that the person would want to take you out themselves. But I hit the county inmate registry…your bounties pulling their time or short-term prisoners doing at most a six-month stint. When I searched State and Federal, it got a bit more complicated. There was about ten names, most of them spend their time in solitary or in closed management. I’m not saying it can’t be done. Most men have a price.”
He watched as Pure took a bottle from Horace, brought it to his lips and downed a good gulp. He snorted at Pure’s hiss. “Horace, you gotta work on that, that shit could strip paint.”
“It’a put hair on your chest,” Horace grunted, as he hung a pot over the fire he’d just started. H
e threw in what looked like dried vegetables and meat, filled it with water.
He’d observed the two men closely while he was there. They had a small garden. They hunted. They cut down their own trees to build their home. Neither had a laptop or cellphone, at least no phone he’d seen. If they did, it was only for emergencies. He knew they had supplies brought in once a month for the things they couldn’t make.
He grabbed Pure’s hand and laced their fingers. He’d never realized the simple intimacy of holding hands or sleeping next to someone was as powerful as it was. And he wanted to take every opportunity.
“You need to draw them out. Like when Liv paraded Fielding down Main Street,” Freddie said, then took a swig off the bottle too.
He’d skipped trying it himself. He could use a drink, but he was in the mood to get drunk, and he needed all his senses.
“I’d prefer not to put a bigger target on my boy’s back.”
“Who said the target would be on his?” Horace asked without looking up from seasoning the soup. “You need to make them fuck up…show their hand. But you take a stand here. Home turf. We have tripwires and sensors all over the place. Nasty little surprises for trespassers. We’d know they were coming from miles away. We got one of the best snipers, tree stand and he can pick them off as we draw them out.”
“Why the hell would you two put your asses on the line? What’s in it for you?”
“We’ve been living in these woods since we bought them fifteen years ago. We planned to die out here. Nothing but scattered bones by the time anyone found us. To most, we’re just rumors, but to the Crews, Peaches, and Lily, someone might mourn us when we’re gone. They will remember we helped protect someone’s boy. We’re not some record of all the lives we’ve taken.” Horace rubbed his hands over his skull covered arms.
“Pure, you’re up.” Freddie broke through the momentary silence.
He wondered what was up until he saw Pure rinse his hands in a bucket of water next to the fire pit. He smiled as he watched Pure start to mix up the ingredients for flatbread. Once the dough was done, he used a polished log to pat out each one, then placed it on the hot rocks around the now roaring fire.
