Flesh Market

by Kate Lowell

  He began to explore Leo’s body, tentatively, just testing the waters. Over the T-shirt first, then bravely slipping a hand underneath to trace his fingers over the hollow of Leo’s backbone.

  “Julian?”

  His cover was blown. All in, then. “Shhhh.” Julian pushed Leo over onto his back and began working his shirt up over his abs. “I’ve been drugged, beaten, and packed in a crate like spare parts. Unless I’m too fucked-up already to read the signals, you wouldn’t be any more against getting a quick blowjob than I would be against giving one.”

  “Wait…” But Leo’s indecision was as plain as day, and Julian, temporarily free of his usual moral code, took full advantage.

  He licked along the groove that ran up the middle of Leo’s stomach. He wasn’t ripped, though he obviously had been at one point, and he was definitely ticklish, because his stomach shivered and twitched at the touch of Julian’s tongue. It made Julian laugh and grab a mouthful of belly in his teeth. Tasty.

  “Julian, this isn’t—”

  Julian interrupted him with a harsh kiss, then went back to exploring his late-evening treat. The pills were really kicking in now. An entire army could have barged into the room, and Julian would have laughed and told them to wait their turn. Even his feet didn’t bother him anymore.

  Maybe he shouldn’t have taken that second pill.

  He couldn’t find it in himself to care.

  Julian straddled Leo, his hands working clumsily at the waist of Leo’s jeans to force the stubborn button through the hole.

  Leo groaned beneath him and ran a palm up the length of Julian’s thigh, then splayed his fingers over the back of it, as if to keep Julian from getting away. Fat chance. Julian wasn’t going anywhere, except down on whatever the damn pants were trying to hide from him.

  But Leo’s hand on his skin felt delightful, and it made Julian want to do something delightful in return. He paused in his struggle with Leo’s pants to cup the man’s head in his hands and kiss him like Julian was the big bad wolf and Leo a particularly delectable grandmother. Leo’s fingers tangled in his hair and guided the kiss, though Leo never tried to take it over. Which was very interesting but not something Julian was in the right state to think about. Later. Much later. But so fucking hot at the same time.

  He went back to work on the jeans. Second time was the charm, and the button was vanquished. The zipper appeared to already know better than to get stubborn with him. It slipped down like it was greased, and Julian could now get the offending cloth out of the way. He worked his hands inside the waistband so he could slide the jeans off and at the same time run his palms over Leo’s ass.

  Efficiency. Killing two birds with one stone. Getting—holy shit! The damn button just redid itself. “What the fuck?”

  “You’re stoned. Tempting as you are, I’m not sleeping with someone as high as you.” Leo pulled Julian down to the bed and threw a blanket over him, tangling his arms in the fabric. “Go to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  “Don’t want to sleep.” Though he kind of did.

  Leo kissed him gently on the cheek and repeated, “We’ll talk in the morning. If you’re still interested—well, we’ll see.” He rolled over and trapped Julian half underneath him and began almost immediately to snore.

  Service

  Julian woke to harsh fluorescent light and the warm weight of a man holding him down. He was tired and cranky, and he only had a moment to fool himself into believing he was home in his own bed before his feet hurt again. “Wake up.” He needed to piss, but the man on top of him was dead weight. He pushed at the arm across his chest. “Get off me!”

  The weight holding him down disappeared so fast Julian wondered if he was dreaming. He half sat up and looked around. Leo stood beside the bed, rumpled but dressed, head tilted as if listening.

  Not as if. He was listening. One hand made a shushing motion at Julian; then Leo relaxed. “What time is it?”

  Julian looked down at himself. “Uh, you took my phone when you took my pockets.” He sat up and put a hand to his head as a headache exploded behind his eyes. “Never ever give me pills again.”

  Leo came to sit beside him. “Sorry. Water?” He held out a bottle.

  Julian nodded and accepted it gratefully. “Thank you,” he said after he’d downed half of it. “Bathroom?”

  “Over there. How are your feet?”

  He flexed them carefully. “Better. I won’t be running any marathons.” Not that he did that anyway. He eased himself off the bed and picked his way across the floor like he was walking on hot coals. It was better than yesterday. He used the toilet—sitting down, because it gave his feet a break—and splashed some water on his face. The bathroom was nice, better even than the one in his and Dave’s apartment. He closed the door to have a minute alone and looked at himself in the mirror.

  Dave was going to kill him when he got home. He still didn’t grow much more than a wisp of a beard, to his chagrin, which meant that the faint gray-blue shadow on his left cheek was actually a bruise. Leo and DeGraff combined. He had finger marks on his right arm, and scrapes on his chest and his left hip. He desperately needed a shower.

  Julian looked around the room and spotted Leo’s shampoo on the side of the bathtub. It was tempting. Actually, at the moment, he’d take a bath, that miracle of sitting down in hot water and soaking, over just about anything. Even an orgasm.

  Someone knocked on the door. Julian froze until he heard Leo’s slightly muffled voice. “You all right in there?”

  “Yeah. Can I borrow your shampoo?”

  Leo came through the door in a hurry. “Don’t.”

  “Whoa, easy there, cowboy. Why not?” Julian lifted an arm and sniffed theatrically. “I stink.”

  “I’m just guessing, but all the ones in the brothel had to use the communal showers. One of the guys told me they weren’t allowed to let them use the private ones for the guards. DeGraff told me they take away all privileges until the victim shows ‘appropriate behavior.’ And I don’t want them thinking I’m treating you like a human being.”

  “Fuck.” Julian glanced down his body. “Can we just pretend I didn’t?”

  Leo moved closer. “I wouldn’t worry about it. I think you smell fine.” His face was calm, neutral, but his cheeks went pink. Julian looked at him more closely, and a vivid memory from last night burst into his mind.

  “Shit. I’m sorry. I don’t normally sexually assault people the first time I meet them. I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself.” Unless you don’t want me to. Do you want me to keep away? Julian wasn’t using his theater face. He knew, under ordinary circumstances, he showed every thought that came through his brain. If Leo didn’t get the message now, he wasn’t much of an agent.

  Leo stopped dead, a flurry of emotions chasing each other across his face. Then he smiled, and it sent a flash of warmth down Julian’s body to curl his toes. “I think last night was our second meeting.”

  “Then this is our third.” His feet got the better of him, and he sat down on the toilet again. “So what do we do?”

  “We can’t let ourselves be distracted.”

  Julian looked down at his feet. “I think I’ve already failed that one.”

  Leo crouched in front of him. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know.” Julian couldn’t help himself. He pressed his palm against Leo’s cheek. Morning stubble prickled against his palm, and his stomach jerked in pleasant anticipation. “I get nervous—I make jokes.”

  “Might want to get on top of that in here.” Leo’s eyes went wide and his face still.

  Far be it from Julian to miss that opportunity, except that it felt kind of cheap in the moment. So instead of making an off-color joke about getting on top of Leo, he said, “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

  A thunderous knock sounded from the other room. “Leon, are you in there?”

  Leo’s and Julian’s eyes met. “Shit,” Leo said. “He’s up early.” Leo step
ped into the bedroom and yelled, “Hang on while I get dressed.” He turned back to Julian with a troubled expression. “I have no idea how this is going to go over. I meant to have you back in your cell before anyone was up.”

  Julian crossed the two steps between them and couldn’t resist putting a hand on Leo’s cheek again. “Do what you have to.” He watched Leo’s pupils dilate, knew his own were doing the same thing. Damn, he had lousy timing. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll hide in here?”

  Leo took his hand and held it, playing with Julian’s fingers in a way that shouldn’t have been quite so seductive. “I’ll have to bring you out.”

  “I know. Just give me a moment. To gird my loins.” He waved his hand at himself, where he was half-hard and swaying with his body’s movements.

  Leo smiled at him. “Nervous?”

  The man was a quick study. Julian liked that too.

  DeGraff knocked at the door again. “Leon, where did you put the new boy?”

  Julian nodded at Leo. “Go ahead.”

  Leo pulled his shirt half off and headed into the bedroom. Julian retreated to the toilet again and listened to Leo open the door and snap, “Keep your shirt on.”

  DeGraff’s voice rumbled like a coming tornado. “Where did you put the new boy? He’s not in the cells.”

  The crack of the door closing echoed into the room, and then, “That’s because he’s here. Julian!”

  Crap. Julian wobbled to his feet and crept to the doorway. It hurt to walk, but he deliberately made it look worse than it was. He wasn’t going to give up any advantage, even a small one. “Yes, sir.” He said it weakly, like he was afraid to be noticed.

  DeGraff scowled. “What do you think you’re doing? He’s supposed to be punished, not rewarded. He kicked me in the face.” He got right up into Leo’s space, two alphas vying for dominance, and for a moment Julian was scared that they’d pushed it too far. But Leo looked down his nose at DeGraff, like a bouncer staring down a middle-aged drunk, and waited for the tirade to wind down.

  “You done?” he asked, bored.

  “For all I knew, he’d escaped after you put him away. You need to remember who’s in charge here. Maybe you aren’t the right man for this job.”

  Leo snapped his fingers in Julian’s direction. “Come here.”

  Oh, that’s me. Julian crept across the floor, shoulders hunched, eyes down. A flick of Leo’s fingers sent him to his knees beside the man’s feet.

  “Julian, tell Mr. DeGraff here what you offered to do last night.”

  What I offered to do? What the— Oh, he doesn’t mean… Leo flicked his fingers again, only toward his own groin. Ah, hell. Julian felt the heat rising up his throat and into his cheeks. He looked down and rubbed the back of his neck. Yeah, he wasn’t body-shy, but he did keep his bedtime exploits to himself.

  Leo snorted above him. “Guess he’s lost his voice again. We were having a chat while he walked, a little advice to make his stay here easier. He offered to blow me last night as we were coming around the corner. Didn’t want to be beaten again.”

  That stopped DeGraff’s anger in its tracks. “And did he?”

  “Only until he got careless with his teeth. It was a good effort, though.” Leo grabbed a hunk of Julian’s hair and forced him to look into Leo’s eyes. Julian gritted his teeth and glared back, then dropped his gaze. The whole situation was a little too uncomfortable.

  “Promising. But it looks like you’ve lost some ground.” DeGraff grasped Julian’s jaw and forced his thumb into Julian’s mouth. Julian gagged and spit and shook his head, trying to get away from him, but he kept his hands in his lap to support Leo’s story. “Yep.” He took his hand away and smirked at Leo.

  “He didn’t bite you, did he?” Leo pulled Julian to his feet. “I’ll put him back now.”

  “Take him through the showers first. And Leon?”

  Leo raised his eyebrows.

  “Don’t ever do something like this again. You got lucky this time, but the next one might not be so easily intimidated.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  For Sale

  They’d been in the new place in Vegas for two days now. In that time, Julian had managed to earn another beating, though they’d avoided his feet. Welts covered the backs of his thighs and the curve of his ass, and the tense lines of his face and the cautious way he moved gave evidence of the pain he was in.

  On top of that, Leo was convinced something else had happened yesterday while he was out making a drop to his contact in a Vegas book. Julian never said a word, and Leo might not even have guessed except for a certain wariness that had developed in the other agent when Kittridge was in the room.

  This morning, Leo scrounged Julian a pair of ragged sweatpants, cut off halfway down his thighs. They were ugly and constantly threatened to fall off his slim hips, but they were better than nothing. The grateful look Julian threw him as he snatched them out of Leo’s hands made all the effort worth it.

  Leo understood; there were enough threats to deal with here without being constantly reminded of your vulnerability. He would have kept Julian away from the rest of the organization if possible, but they couldn’t spend all their time in his room, and Leo couldn’t rest when he left Julian unprotected in the cells. So, shorts and the common room it was. They’d worked out a few scenarios so it looked like training, to keep suspicions low.

  If it hadn’t been for the risk of discovery, and the mild feeling of being a dirty old man, Leo could have enjoyed the excuse to put his hands all over Julian. He had a strong suspicion that Julian didn’t mind either, except for the presence of others in the room. For now, Julian was draped facedown across Leo’s lap, with Leo’s fingers between his thighs.

  The reason for that was sitting in the armchair, one eye on the security monitors, one eye on the television. The man from the operating room, the one Leo had thought he knew but couldn’t place.

  Harley Maciel was his name. Leo had finally remembered him from a joint operation with the DEA, just before Leo joined the HRT. Three years ago, the man had dropped out of sight, and no one could track him down. Leo had taken a perverse delight in letting the bureau know where the man was now.

  That was the only thing that delighted him. Maciel had settled into the trafficking ring like a pig in shit. He’d brought back two girls in the past two days, both young, pretty, and neither one of them older than fourteen, if Leo’s guess was correct. They huddled naked on the floor at Maciel’s feet, shivering in the cool room. One of them was called Cassidy, he thought. The other, he didn’t know. Maciel didn’t bother with names for them; he had less gentle ways of getting their attention.

  DeGraff literally rolled his eyes when he came into the common room and saw Julian’s shorts, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he slapped Julian and sent him to sit on the floor, then pulled Leo aside. “I know this is your first processing, but I need to warn you about getting too attached. Friday night, this boy goes on the market. You don’t get to keep him.”

  Leo gave him cop-face. DeGraff’s eyes narrowed. “I’m serious about this, Leon. I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you. You seem awful attached to this boy.”

  “You hurt him. He’s scared of you. I give him shorts; he’s not so scared of me.” He grinned. “It’s kind of fun playing good cop for once. Besides, we both know he’s going to fuck up, and then he can lose those shorts again.” He raised his eyebrows at DeGraff. “This kid? Lots of bluster, not much staying power. Once he’s got it through his head that we’re the ones in charge, he’ll break, and break properly. He’s pretty enough for your select group. And when I’m done, it’ll never occur to him not to do what he’s told. I’ve worked criminals like this. Trust me.”

  DeGraff watched him with narrowed eyes, then shook his head like he was dealing with an overenthusiastic subaltern. “You better be right. The photographer will be here this afternoon. We’ll get his pics and do a video. You sure he’s a virgin?” His ton
e was wry. He had to be the most easygoing criminal Leo had ever investigated.

  Here was his chance to make sure everyone kept their hands off Julian. “Sure acts like it. Kisses like there’s no tomorrow, but awkward as hell after that. Don’t know if you want any of that fixed up.” He saw Julian blush out of the corner of his eye and felt a momentary twinge. Julian had kept his head well enough during all this that Leo tended to forget the other agent was so new the shine still hadn’t worn off.

  “Yeah, you mentioned the teeth. Kittridge did too, which makes me think our boy’s getting smart with us again.” He shot Julian a hard look. Julian scurried backward, half hiding behind the arm of the couch.

  DeGraff’s comment solved the mystery of Julian’s wariness. Fucking Kittridge. He couldn’t blow his cover over this, but if the opportunity presented itself, he was going to indulge himself in a little ball-boxing. See Kittridge hunt for blowjobs after that.

  DeGraff snorted and turned his attention back to Leo. “Good kisser, huh? That’s helpful.” He scratched his head and looked thoughtful. “I’m going to get another boy in. Maybe a redhead—there’s a good one in LA. We’ll put them together for some footage, get something sexy, and put on an auction for his first night. Live auction is always good for stirring the punters up, pushing prices high. Think you can have him in shape for then?”

  “Sure. What do you want?” Hell no.

  DeGraff frowned, eyeing Julian like a cut of beef he wasn’t sure whether to grill or marinate. “We want him to look shy but eager. Highlight the first-time angle. You need to make him understand that playing this the right way will have a direct effect on his future.” The last sentence was said in a tone of voice that implied, if Julian didn’t please DeGraff, he’d find himself on that operating table the next day.