The Mind's Eye

by B. A. Tortuga

2

Torquere Press

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Copyright ©2011 by BA Tortuga

First published in www.torquerepress.com, 2011

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The Mind's Eye

by B. A. Tortuga

3

Author's note: Star sapphires were considered a very

powerful talisman for travelers and seekers of all kinds. Keye
and Jake are definitely seekers. Grins.

Dedication: This book is happily dedicated to Frank, the

Bathroom Lizard. Keep eating bugs, little dude. BA

* * * *

The Mind's Eye
By BA Tortuga
Go find this guy, they said.
Go find him and kill him and we'll give you your money

back and let you leave. That last part was supposed to come
with them cutting him—cutting off a finger, actually, which
was gross and unhelpful because nine-fingered people were
conspicuous and he wasn't Mister Blend In anyway and...
Right. Whatever. Still. There was supposed to be cutting,
because he'd heard the part about the cutting, even if they
didn't say it out loud, and had jumped away and gotten out of
Vegas with three hundred dollars, his 1978 Oldsmobile, and
all ten fingers.

Fucking mobsters.
Fucking gamblers.
He'd just needed money for a few years—just enough to

get over the hump and maybe buy a new car and... He was
lucky. His fingers touched the scar at his temple, ghosted
over the steel plate, the twinge wild, like biting into tin foil.
No, he'd been lucky, once. Before a guy watched him win at a

The Mind's Eye

by B. A. Tortuga

4

slot machine and shot him in the head in an alley off Fremont
Street.

Now he was just wide open, a receiver of the worst kind.
He'd spent a year gibbering and screaming in a psych

ward, spent another two years wandering the desert until
he'd found a place to land. A place in the middle of nowhere
with nothing but the lizards and the mice to keep him
company.

Lizards were loud.
Mice, not so much.
Still, he'd only needed a little cash, and suddenly a

hundred grand had become seven hundred and fifty grand
and he became the dude in serious shit.

So, here he was in fucking... Montana? Idaho? Oregon? He

didn't know. All he knew was that the guy was here, close.
Like in-that-cafe close, and Jake was supposed to walk up to
him and just shoot the poor guy or something.

Seriously? Him?
So not the shooting kind. Or the killing kind.
He didn't even eat meat. Cows didn't think fast, but wow.

Thinking and shit.

He rested his head on his hands. Okay. He wasn't stupid.

Crazy, yes. Stupid, no. Not really.

He had a plan. He would walk in, set ye olde plan in

motion, and voila. Right?

Jake nodded, his head banging on the steering wheel

again. Oh, ow.

Right. Plan. Motion. Go team him.

* * * *

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by B. A. Tortuga

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Keye sat in the back booth, the one on the side of the

diner with no restrooms and no windows. He liked to be able
to watch folks come and go, to know that he had nowhere to
run. Being backed into a corner made him sharper, smarter.
An easy escape route made for a lazy Keye.

The people coming in and out were regulars, for the most

part, having coffee, saying hi, and eating chili sizes and hash
and eggs. Normal. Easy. Good. He approved.

The guy walking toward him wasn't a regular. Keye knew it

like he knew that he could crush the man's windpipe with one
squeeze. The guy's neck was only so big.

Of course, when said skinny little wild-haired freak sat

down, looked at him with one light blue eye, one dark brown
one, and said, "I'm supposed to be here to kill you. Weird,
huh?" he knew he was absolutely right.

Keye sat back, hands flat on the table, and stared. "You

want some coffee?"

"Absolutely." The little guy waved down the waitress,

ordered a coffee with a wink, then turned back to him with a
bright smile. "So, there's this guy—Gianni de Marco? You
know him? Ugly, broad, lots of nice hair, but way too much
pomade? He's in Vegas. He has all my money and he's a big
asshole—wanted to cut my fingers off, what a turd, huh?
Anyway, he's hiring people to kill you. Well, blackmailing me
to kill you, but I always figure if a guy's willing to blackmail
one man, he's willing to hire someone else. It's like a
slippery-slope deal. Anyway, I thought about it, because
seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars is a lot of money,

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but if I won it once in Vegas, I can win it a couple three times
in Shreveport, and I have the weird feeling that murder would
lead to blood and puss and stuff, so no. I decided to warn you
instead."

"I think he needs to switch to decaf, honey," Keye told the

waitress. She left again, and Keye stared at the guy some
more. "De Marco, huh?"

"Uh-huh. He's a fuckmonkey. You're very broad. I was

surprised, you know? All I had to work on was this little
memory deal and a fuzzy picture like from the TV. All
pixelated and shit from the security cameras. I guess that's
what the hat was for, though, huh? Hiding your face?"

"Well, I wear a hat occasionally." Hell, he was from Texas.

He wore a hat a lot, cowboy or gimme cap, whatever. "What's
a fuckmonkey?"

The guy's laugh rang out—and how it wasn't purely insane,

Keye wasn't sure, but it wasn't. "I haven't the foggiest, but
it's a great word, isn't it? Fuck. Monkey. Fuckmonkey. It's like
asshat, but with more flinging poo."

Lord, have mercy. Some days a man just had to go with

what was put in front of him. "So, you're not gonna kill me."

"God, no. That's creepy." The man drank deep from his

coffee, then smiled. "I mean, I found you, which is good, I
guess, but I'm a tracker, not a hunter. Did you really get that
scar on your chin from falling out of a barn? I don't know that
I've ever been in a real barn."

Keye kept his face immobile by force of will alone. How the

hell did this guy know where he'd gotten his scar? "You been
talkin' to my momma or something?"

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"She died three years ago. She was..." The guy's nose

wrinkled, one long finger sliding on his hand. "Oh, man. Yuck.
I'm sorry, that sucks. Bad memory, huh? Let's not go there.
That's bad. And you dealt with it all and I'm really glad my
name's not Lionel, because you just... you don't like that
name at all."

Keye felt his brow furrow, which meant this guy was really

something. He didn't know what. His voice came out pretty
even, though. "How do you know this shit?" ENDEXCERPT

He got a shrug. "No one knows. There was a bullet and a

steel plate and a lot of screaming and now, bingo. I know
things. I think it's brain waves; could be something else,
though. I'm pretty sure it's not a God thing."

"A God thing?" Keye shook his head. Mind readers?

Bullshit.

"It is not." The guy actually looked affronted, lips pursing.

"Honestly, you should be nicer, really. I came all this way to
warn you. Well, okay, I came because I couldn't not; it's a
compulsion deal. I don't get it, really, but I have to find
things, but I could have just left and let someone else kill you
and you would have been surprised. I need toast."

Keye signaled the waitress. "Some wheat toast, honey.

Maybe a waffle. Do you eat meat?"

Those weird-assed eyes went wide. "No. No. No, I couldn't.

I mean, I did, but... No. Sorry. A waffle would be fabulous.
Thank you. And another coffee, please."

Suddenly, the guy looked ancient. Truly fucking exhausted,

like he hadn't slept in days.

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"A waffle to go. The toast we'll take now." Keye figured Mr.

Big Hair the Color of Tar needed to sleep. He could help with
that. "You got a name, mystical man?"

"Jake. You're Wilson, but you don't go by that."
"You're right." This was getting creepy.
"Beauregard isn't such a bad middle name, though. I

wouldn't worry about it. Mine's Alexander."

The toast came, and Keye watched the man eat. His

fingers tapped on the table, which was a habit he'd worked
out of his body years ago.

"I'm sorry. I'll eat fast. I know it's unnerving and it's about

time for me to go." Jake blinked at him, licked his fingers
clean. "I hope they don't kill you. You have this neat brain—
like you want people to think you're a cow, but you're really a
lizard."

"Thanks. I think." The waffle came in a box, along with two

coffees to go, and Keye started readying his muscles for a
chase if need be.

Jake pulled out his wallet, put a twenty on the table. "Is

that enough? I really have to go. I have to move my car."

"That's plenty. I'll walk you." There was no way he was

letting anyone who knew this much about him get away.

"I'm okay. There's no one here who wants to hurt me. It's

all curiosity." Jake grabbed the waffles and headed out,
whistling tunelessly. Rope sandals. The man had rope sandals
on.

Leaving an extra five on the table, Keye followed, watching

the man wander down the street like a windblown bird. The
guy went to a POS Oldsmobile with an oil stain underneath it

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the size of Kansas. The thing was packed to the gills with God
knew what—Keye thought he saw a guitar, a stuffed alligator,
a jar of peanut butter.

A group of teenagers walked by Jake, and the man pulled

back, head shaking, skin going pale.

Keye stayed casual, but he moved in closer, weight on the

balls of his feet, ready to wade in.

Jake stumbled over the curb, banged against the Olds,

almost went down, and the teenagers started giggling.
Something hard and growly rose in his chest, and Keye
rumbled at the lot of them. Keye was intrigued with Jake,
they needed to back off.

Jake fumbled the car door open and slipped inside, almost

disappearing in the crowd of stuff.

Keye stepped up and put his hand on the door, keeping it

from closing. "I have a cabin outside of town."

"I... a cabin? It's yours? I just... I have to sleep. I have

to."

"It's mine enough. It's secluded enough to be... quiet." If

the guy really thought he was a mind reader, he might need
some time away from people, right?

"Of course I do. I don't go around people all the time. Only

to get money, usually."

"Well, come on, then. I owe you one for not killing me,

huh?" Keye grinned. "Can you follow me? We can come back
for your car if you can't."

"I can." Jake touched his wrist. "Thank you. I just need an

hour, huh?"

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"Sure thing." He glared one more time at the teens, who

backed off, and headed for his truck. He'd let the guy sleep
and decide what to do next.

The Olds followed him, smoke billowing out the back end,

and Keye could see the guy singing, just really getting into it.

Lord have mercy. This had to be the weirdest shit in what,

ten years? Still, he wasn't bored.

He led Jake deep into the forest, down one road after

another, beginning to ponder how this little bird had found
him. Keye wasn't easy to find, even when he wanted to be.
When he was between jobs like he was now, it was nigh
impossible. And yet, small, dark, and blinky had done it
without any trouble at all. Either he was slipping or the guy
really had a special talent.

Both options were a bit... out of the ordinary. His life was

what most folks would consider out in left field, but this was
weird, even for him. Christ.

There. He pulled off at the red strip of fabric tied to an old

pine, turning down an almost invisible track. Jake's rattletrap
was clattering along; chunks were going to start falling off
any second. Thank God they stopped before that happened. A
mechanic he wasn't, even if he could do basically anything to
his truck.

Jake sat in the car, hands on the steering wheel, still.
Keye went to get him, knocking on the window. "You

coming, man?"

Jake's head moved slowly, the man blinking like an owl.

"I'm not an owl. I can't... I think I'll stay here. So quiet. God,
it's so quiet."

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"Come on, magic man. It's quieter in the cabin." Keye

opened the door and helped the man out, catching Jake when
he teetered.

"Please. I'm so sleepy. One night. I'll be gone at dawn, I

promise."

"You can stay as long as you need." Keye kept his voice

low, gentle, kept his thoughts calm. Soothing.

The man followed him, stumbling along, beginning to

mutter softly.

Keye took Jake inside, got his shoes off, his big overshirt.

Then he pushed the guy down on the big bed. "Sleep."

Huge eyes stared at him for a second. "Sleep."
"Yup. Close your eyes and breathe. I'll keep it quiet."
Jake moved his lips, forming the word, quiet, before

crashing like a lead balloon.

Keye covered him with a light blanket, shaking his head.

Jesus, he couldn't imagine being that wound up. He'd let the
guy sleep for as long as Jake needed.

Then they'd have to set about seeing why a certain mob

boss wanted Keye dead.

* * * *

He woke up at dawn, eyes searching the place. Where?

Where? God, what had he done?

Jake slipped from the bed, heading for the door, trusting

his body to get him moving before his brain woke up enough
to remind him what the fuck he was up to. Except that his
body had him veering off to the bathroom so he could pee.
Dude.

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He felt like he peed for maybe an hour, an hour and a half,

before heading for the shower. Water. Water would be good.
He loved the feel of water on him. Water was quiet, unless
there were fish. If there were fish, he couldn't guarantee
anything.

Fish were different.
Soapy and wet, Jake hummed and scrubbed. Then almost

jumped out of his skin when a voice came from the other side
of the curtain. "You want your waffles heated up?"

All of a sudden it came back to him—Gianni. Traveling.

Toast. Coffee.

Tall, white-blond, hot, and with the faux cow thoughts.
"I didn't hear you." How hadn't he heard anything?
He looked out the curtain. Oh. Yummy. Strong and stacked

with a belly tight enough to bounce quarters off of. Damn.
Had the man been walking sex at the diner? Or was that new?

"No worries. You were singing a little. So, waffles? Or eggs

and bacon?"

"No bacon. I can't. I wish I could, but pigs are like dogs.

Meaner. Bitchier. But dogs. Kind of."

"Okay." Keye peeked at him, smiled a little. "You're not as

skinny as you look."

"I wear big clothes. It helps." Random stuff could make a

guy crazy. Really crazy, not just a little eccentric crazy.

"Right. Well, I'll go get breakfast." Keye closed the curtain

and headed off, and again, it was like being with a ghost.

He finished washing, then looked at his clothes and shook

his head. Gross. He grabbed them and slipped on his sandals,
walking naked to his car. There were clean clothes in there.

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"Are you naked?" Keye stuck his head out the door to the

cabin. "What are you doing?"

"Getting clean clothes. I have some." Not a lot, but

enough. And enough was good. He was a fan of enough. It
was just the right amount.

"Oh." Keye watched him all the way back inside, only

stepping back enough to let him in. He had to slide a little
against that big body.

He put his mostly-clean jeans, briefs, and t-shirt on.

"Better."

"That's debatable." The food smelled good, and Keye

dished him up waffles and eggs.

His world was a better place with a little sleep, a chance to

breathe. The constant bombardment had eased, backed off.
"Thanks, man."

"Not a problem. Least I can do for someone who didn't kill

me."

He chuckled, worried at the hint of sarcasm in the man's

thoughts. "I'm not a killer." It was—unnecessary.

"I am." The words were flat, bald. The truth.
He tilted his head. It was good to know yourself, Jake

supposed, because otherwise you ended up working in a
cubicle when you were meant to be a mercenary, and that led
to ulcers. "I know. It's a little creepy, but I guess it's that
cow-lizard thing." Keye wanted to believe he had a cow
brain—still and slow—but it was all lizard, all the time. Well,
less with the bugs. At least so far. Every time they'd seen
each other, there'd been food, so maybe Keye didn't have to
think bug thoughts.

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Keye just... well, he didn't smile, but those hazel eyes

crinkled up at the corners in the best way.

"I like your eyes." Hopefully no one would kill Keye for a

while. Jake figured they'd wait at least a few days before
sending someone else.

"Thanks. Syrup?" Keye sat next to him at the shabby little

table, elbow right next to his.

"Sure." Their elbows touched and his eyes crossed. Being

caught in Keye's stream of consciousness was like watching a
Kurosawa film on fast forward. Maybe like listening to the
Who and Pink Floyd at the same time, backward.

Definitely lizard. Not cow. Wow. What Keye was planning

to do to a certain mafia boss...

Ew. Fingers were... necessary. Especially for guitar

playing.

"I should probably go, find a place." Maybe a bingo parlor

instead of a casino.

"This is a place."
"Yes." It was hard to argue with that kind of logic, really.

The thoughts sliding through Keye were slippery, making his
eyes cross.

"Just sit and eat and breathe, man." Keye touched him for

a moment with his full hand, and instead of being lizard-
lizard, suddenly everything went still.

"Oh." He took a deep breath, the sensation almost

orgasmic.

"Waffles." Keye motioned with his free hand, and Jake

nodded, beginning to eat. It was like moving in slow motion,
but it was amazingly good. He hummed as he ate, the waffles

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not crispy anymore, but good, sweet. He liked sweet foods,
always had. He thought the world should be made out of
chocolate sometimes. Except that chocolate guitar strings
would be weird. And sticky. And not particularly musical.

He wasn't sure chocolate was musical.
"Not to mention that a chocolate world would melt," Keye

murmured.

"Exactly. The licking would be fun, though. Sleeping would

be weird, and how would you drive?"

Keye's eyes crinkled up again, the man licking syrup off his

lower lip, which made Jake think about licking again. Yum.

He considered, idly, asking Keye if a quickie was totally out

of the question—the man kept thinking about his cock, his
ass, and, while it wasn't a sunshine and roses type of
thought, sometimes those thoughts that were more whiskey
and moonshine were way more fun. On the other hand,
having wild, passionate monkey sex—which, okay, icky-poo—
with a guy you were supposed to either be killing or running
away from was probably stupid. On the other-other hand,
Keye had been totally rocking good to him.

"You're thinking hard, magic man. Something you're

wanting?"

"I was thinking about giving you a blow job, maybe getting

a nice fuck. It's been awhile. That sort of thing can be
awkward for me."

"Fucking? Do people rate your performance in their heads

or something?" Keye reached out while he spoke, taking
Jake's fork away, grabbing Jake's arm and tugging.

"Sometimes, yes, but mostly I get lost."

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"Lost?"
Jake ended up turning and sitting on Keye's lap, Keye's

hands on his hips.

"Uh-huh." He groaned as his hands landed on Keye's

shoulders. Broad. Solid. The hidden strength there was
fascinating. "Hi."

"Hey. I like blow jobs." Those fingers pushed in against his

skin, testing his resiliency.

"Who doesn't? Blow jobs are amazing things." His eyes

crossed, and he hummed. "I like to suck. I know, most guys
don't admit it, but why be queer if you don't like a nice prick
in your mouth? Do you have a nice prick?"

"Why don't you get it out and see?" Keye's voice dropped

to a happy rumble, slow and southern and melting hot. That
was almost absolutely a good sign. Men with issues started
blustering or making apologies right about now.

He didn't have to do either. His cock was perfectly

acceptable. In fact, Jake liked it a lot.

He opened Keye's jeans, fingers trailing along a happily

growing bulge. Oh, yeah. Long but not too long, nice and
thick, Keye was a joy to behold. Licking his lips, he measured
the fat cock with his fingers, base to tip. He could feel the
blood thump in it, hear a low groan building up in Keye's
chest. Keye shifted beneath him, exposed skin hot and good,
hand squeezing his butt.

He scooted up, rubbing up along Keye's cock as he moved.

He was sort of going the wrong way, but it felt so good.

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Those big hands helped him, pulling him up so he rubbed

against Keye's belly. Oh, that was right—in that "waking up
on a cold morning in your favorite pajamas" sort of way.

"Of course, I like rubbing off, too." Keye chuckled, actually

laughed, and pulled at his pants.

"If we weren't in a hurry, we could do both." But they

should be—in a hurry.

"Why are we in a hurry, magic?" That hand got inside his

pants, got his cock out, too, so Keye could push them
together.

"Aren't people trying to kill you?" His eyes crossed again, a

rush of pure heat hitting him like a tsunami in some country
he'd never be able to spell.

"Just you, far as I can tell." Keye stroked him a little, up

and down, experimenting.

"No... No, I was sent. I never... Oh, right there." Calluses.

Men with calluses were like gifts from Gay Santa.

Keye laughed. "Well, then. I'm not in any hurry."
Confidence. He liked it. Not as much as the way Keye's

thumb worked the tip of his cock, as the way that rough
touch made the muscles by his neck clench and squeeze.

"Sensitive. I bet folks don't touch you much." Keye's other

hand slid down to cup his balls.

"No. No. It's awk..." He arched, Keye's touch soft as a

feather, with the promise of pure strength. Yum.

People wanted to kill this man? They should build him a

shrine and set him up for life with all the men who needed to
be loved on as bad as Jake did. This was like a triple

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chocolate brownie sundae and a joint. One of those really
good joints from Hawaii. A big one. A big fat one.

Mmm. Fat one.
Keye's thumb scraped over the tip of his cock again,

pressing against the slit, bringing him back to the moment.

"Yes." He hissed the word out. He couldn't help it. That

burn bloomed right at the base of his skull.

"Mmm. You smell good, magic. You really do."
He nodded; he got that. You had to like it, the way a dude

smelled. Fucking somebody stinky didn't work. Pheromones.
It was a thing. Oh, fuck. Please don't stop.

Keye wasn't stopping. In fact, the man was stroking him

harder and leaning down to gnaw on his neck a little.

He managed to keep rubbing back, making sure to slide

against Keye, keep the heat and want moving between them.
It worked pretty well, because Keye was moving under him,
starting to pant.

His fingers kept finding fascinating scars, exploring them

for a second before stuttering off to find something else,
chasing their orgasms. Keye's muscles were fascinating, too,
long and almost bulky, but not heavy like a weight lifter. The
man's body was extremely well designed. Flashes of fast cars
and jaguars and horses flashed through his mind, so fast he
barely registered them, but it was okay, things were getting
faster and faster, his brain zooming to keep up with his cock.

It was impossible. He was going to go off like a bottle

rocket. Any second.

Fireworks blasted up his spine, his head slamming back as

a rush of pure Keye hit him.

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"Fuck." Keye grunted, and the man came for him, body

jerking hard enough that Jake bounced.

"Yeah..." His eyes rolled back in his head, his teeth

rattling.

"Pretty, magic man. Real pretty." Keye rubbed their come

into Jake's skin, making him jerk again. His brain slowed
down, or tried to, his thoughts caught in Keye's. Keye was a
pretty happy guy right at the moment. Sort of like a rumbly
bear, ready to hibernate. All of a sudden. Boom.

Hibernating was good.
He could rest for a second. Just a second.
Just.
Just.

* * * *

Keye chuckled, easing Jake up against his chest so he

could stand and carry the man back to the bed. Someone was
beat. He put Jake down and tucked the blanket around him. If
his magic man got restless, Keye would come back and lie
down with him, but for now he needed to make a call.

He headed outside with his cell and dialed Sylvia, his

contact, who also happened to be his third cousin and a hell
of a shooter herself.

The phone was picked up on the first ring. "Hello, dear

heart."

"Hey. How's the love of my life?" Truth be told, Syl was a

bitch from hell who would cut his balls off if he actually
touched her with a ten-foot pole, but he did adore her. "Do
you remember some mob guy in Vegas?"

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"Mob guy? Which one? We pulled a job for one about three

years ago. Italian fellow. Very quiet. Never even hit the
papers."

"Yeah. Marco something. He's put a hit out on me."
"No shit? Who'd they send?" He could hear her fingers

flying over the keyboard.

"Well, that's the fun part." He checked his back, but

beauty was obviously still sleeping. "He sent this squirrely
feller who reads minds."

"They did what? A mind reader? Did they drug you?"
"Nope. He came to me in a diner." The very thought made

him want to laugh.

"I. Wow. Do you need cleanup?"
"Nope. I brought him with me. I got this feeling he'll give a

great blow job."

"You... Now, Keye, dear heart, you're thinking with your

dick again." She clucked at him.

"Yes, ma'am. He couldn't kill me, though, and he knows all

this shit about me." Too much shit to just let him walk off.

"What kind of shit?" He could hear her frown.
"My real name, for one. A lot of shit, honey." Only two

people who were not him knew that stuff, and one of them
was Sylvia.

Sylvia's growl ripped through the phone. Man, someone

was pissed. "You want a ticket to Vegas?"

"Not yet." He grinned. She would rip someone's balls off

for him. It was awesome. "I'll suss this guy out first."

"You be careful. I'm not your leak, Keye." No. No, she

wouldn't. Keye trusted the old bitch implicitly.

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"I know, baby girl. You got my back." He lowered his

voice. "Someone knows this much about me, though, they
might know about you. You might think about moving the
operation."

"You got it. I'll move to the secondary number. Give me

two days, I'll have us relocated."

"Keep me posted, lady. I'll let you know if I need transport

to Vegas." She was amazingly organized. She'd have
scorched earth in ten hours.

"You know it. Take care of yourself." The phone went

dead.

Keye clicked his phone off and headed back inside to check

on Jake.

Jake wasn't in the bed. Wasn't in the bathroom. Or

outside. Well, now. No windows had been opened, there was
only one door, and Keye had been standing in front of it. So.
He checked the one closet, then went to look under the bed.

There he was, curled in a tiny ball, sound asleep.
Huh. Poor guy must have woken up a little disoriented. Or,

hey, who knew? Maybe the guy slept like that all the time.

He reached out, one finger touching the guy's wrist, and

Jake started moving toward him. He waited for the man to
scootch close enough, which didn't take long. Then he pulled
Jake out and put him back on the bed. Wouldn't hurt to rest
with the guy a little while.

The lean body curled into him, the soft moan vibrating

against his throat. That was so weird. Generally people
distrusted him if they got close enough.

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22

This one, though, he pushed close, hands on his belly.

Keye hummed, loving the feel of that hot body against him.

"Music." Jake murmured the word, nuzzling his jaw.
"Huh?" He wasn't playing music, was he?
"It's okay. You don't have to worry."
"Worry about what, magic man?"
"Music. That's my job."
"Is that what you do?" Keye thought that made sense.
Jake nodded. "I do. All the time."
"Well, there you go. I'll let you do it."
"Okay." Jake's lips wrapped around one of his nipples, the

suction lazy and slow. Oh, shit. That felt fucking amazing, and
Keye rocked into the contact. There was soft, satisfied
humming surrounding his flesh, tongue sliding over his skin.
Definitely music. It added a nice vibration, and that little buzz
went straight to his balls.

He reached down, stroking Jake from ass to shoulders and

back again. Such fine skin. Jake sucked harder, pulling at his
nipple. His skin beaded up with goosebumps, his breath
coming faster. God, this man was a little firecracker.

They tussled a little, because he wanted Jake on top. He

wanted to be able to watch and feel it all.

"No problem. I'm not shy." Jake slipped on top of him,

arms bracketing his head.

"No? You may be the world's most perfect fuck, magic."
Jake chuckled. "Wouldn't that be handy?"
"It would. My own personal play toy." The idea had merit.
"Uh-huh. I have to find a house." Jake bit his collarbone

playfully.

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"What for?" They had a cabin.
"Uh..." Jake grinned, shook his head. "I was leaving?"
"No, magic. You're having sex." He reached down to pinch

that lean ass, just to remind the man.

"Oh, right." Jake's laughter rang out, made him grin. Most

people did not find him funny. It was hot.

They rocked a little, his hands sliding up and down Jake's

body, testing the shape of a hip or a leg, his fingers counting
ribs. Jake was focused on his chest, teeth teasing his nipples
while that tight body wriggled against him. It was distracting
as hell, but so damned fun, and his cock was happy, rubbing
Jake's belly.

"You need fun. Too much work makes people old before

their time."

"I like it." He had no idea how Jake knew he'd been right

on the edge when he'd come up here, needing a break,
needing to be away from everything work-related, but it was
the truth.

Jake nodded, hummed softly, and switched nipples. The

man had focus, Keye would give him that. He wasn't sure
anyone had ever spent that much time on his chest. Most
guys went straight to Keye's cock.

"It's beautiful and heavy, but you're in no hurry."
"Nope." Okay, that was freaky. But fun. He did have to

wonder what it would take to get Jake to forget his name,
though. Jake's laughter tickled his skin.

"What? You ever get so hot you can't hear what the other

dude is thinking?" He rolled them again, putting Jake beneath
him, his mouth sliding down the long throat.

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"Nope." Jake chuckled, throat working.
"Oh, now. That's a challenge." He bit down a little, putting

all of his own considerable focus to work. Jake's hum tickled
his lips, easy and more than a little horny. Good man. Keye
kissed that mouth, wanting more.

Those lips opened up, Jake's fingers in his hair, holding

him close. Keye closed his eyes and set to making the man
crazy. He pushed his tongue into Jake's mouth, tasting,
sending them a little higher with every touch.

The man tasted sweet, somehow, and the smell of them

together was heady. He liked it enough that he rubbed like a
cat, trying to get their scents to mingle even more.

Jake groaned for him, arched under his touch. That was so

pretty. So warm. He bit the skin of Jake's throat, the slope of
one shoulder.

The man was going to bruise, so pretty. He tried out that

theory, sucking up a mark on the tender upper arm. He pulled
until there was a lurid hickey. When he pulled back, Jake was
looking too, breathing hard, lips open.

"Pretty, huh? Kinda like signing a piece of art."
That made Jake smile. "I like how I can feel my heartbeat

in it."

"Mmm." He liked that, too. A lot. Keye pressed his lips

there again, gently this time, feeling a flutter.

Jake's answer was a soft, sweet moan. It was kinda like

music, oddly enough. A special, sex kind of music. That made
Jake grin. Keye knew it was him, his thought, that did it.
There was something powerful about that, along with

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something that left him vulnerable, since Jake could hear him
and he couldn't hear back. It made his cock twitch.

"Shh. I'm harmless, Keye. I promise. I don't want to hurt

you."

"I know you don't." He licked at the bruise he'd made,

then moved down to suck at Jake's nipple, returning the
earlier favor.

"Oh." Jake's fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just

enough to let him feel it. Sensual man. Hotter than fire and
way sweeter.

Jake shivered, murmuring his name like it was a fucking

prayer of something. He did love that sound, and he'd never
heard it before today. Yesterday? Whenever. Man, this was
throwing him off his game.

"You're not working. It's okay. I promise."
"Mmmhmm." He bit down again, needing Jake to hush up

and just feel. He could feel Jake jerk, gasp, shudder under
him. That was it. Just feel that. Keye rubbed harder, kissing
and licking and nipping.

Jake twisted, hands dancing over his skin, light enough

that his body shifted, trying to push up into them. He'd need
something more firm soon, something with some intent. The
little touches didn't get more firm, though. They stayed light,
making his skin tingle.

"Come on, man. Make me feel it." He growled it, letting

Jake feel the bruises Keye inflicted on Jake's hip.

Jake chuckled, arched. "You are. You're aching."
"Uh-huh. I need you to help with that." He needed it so

bad his teeth hurt.

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"Yes." Jake's fingers wrapped around his prick, sudden and

firm, the calluses surprising him. He guessed Jake really was
a music man as well as a magic man. God, that felt like
heaven.

"Yeah." Jake nodded and started stroking him with a sure,

hard hand.

Keye gritted his teeth, his muscles tensing and releasing,

his body gearing up to get going good.

"Pretty, pretty." Jake groaned, hand moving faster.
"Yeah?" He preened a little. He attracted little size queens

most of the time, all of them wanting the big bear-daddy
type. No one really thought he was pretty.

Jake moaned softly, nodding. Those eyes slid over him,

eating him up. He had to take a kiss for that, let Jake know
how hot that was, how good.

He bit at Jake's lips, groaning as that made Jake jerk,

grind against him a little. They slapped together audibly, the
heat where their skin spanked itself right and perfect. Jake's
grip tightened, thumb on the slit of his cock.

"Christ." He bucked, his body alive with tingly goodness.

Jake chuckled, let that dull thumb give him a thrill.

He scraped his short nails along Jake's skin from hip to

shoulder, wanting the man right there with him.

Jake shivered, groaned into his mouth, hips beginning to

saw against him. He could feel Jake, hard against his wrist
and the back of his hand when he reached down to press
Jake's fingers closer around him.

Jake nodded, started jacking him just how he needed it,

hand sliding up and down, measuring his prick. His balls

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pulled up, sweat starting to pop up on his skin. His cock
beaded up with moisture.

When Jake swooped down and sucked him into that hot,

hungry mouth, the suction immediate and wild, Keye damn
near roared. He thrust up, sliding deep into Jake's throat, the
head of his cock nudging hard. Jake took him, deep-throating
him like a pro, except it wasn't like a pro at all because Jake
was right there, focused on him. He knew the man could read
his reactions like no one else, ever. It was fucking
exhilarating.

One hot hand rolled his balls, pushing them in their sac.
Fuck. He'd wanted to enjoy this more, but he lost it,

coming so hard his vision grayed out.

Jake was curled against his side, moaning, lips open like

the man had come himself.

"You need a hand, babe?" If he'd shorted Jake out, well,

that was cool. He liked to give as good as he got, though.

Jake shook his head, licked his lips. "'M good."
"You are." Damn, that was a fine thing. A man could get

used to it.

Jake hummed once, nuzzled him, then pooped out again,

sleeping hard.

Keye grinned. He knew what he needed to do if he had to

get Jake out of the way while he worked: fuck the guy into
oblivion.

One way or the other, he fully intended to keep his magic

man around for a while longer.

* * * *

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Jake woke up, watched Keye sleep for a while. The man

was lovely—tough, scarred, bigger than he'd thought the man
would be—but truly handsome and endowed with a fabulous,
fat cock and a viciously sharp sense of humor.

Keye was the most interesting mind he'd seen in eons.
He was going to miss it.
He slipped out of the bed and stretched. He needed

money, a place to stay, and possibly a peanut butter
sandwich. Maybe some coffee. Ah, coffee, bouncy nectar of
the Colombian gods.

Keye murmured, rolling to one side, hand sliding over the

bed.

He found himself stepping forward, drawn to the man.

God, he was going to get caught up, trapped in that strength
and silence. He had to go now, before he got in any more
trouble.

Keye's eyes snapped open, bright and focused. "Going

somewhere, magic?"

"I was. You... Wow. Listen to you wake up." How

fascinating was that? Keye woke up, mentally, faster than
anyone he'd ever met. It was full of calculations and thoughts
and the urgent need to do something with a hard on.

He found himself moving closer, fascinated. "I probably

should go." He wanted to touch.

"Where you gonna go, magic?" Keye shifted on the bed,

reaching out to him a little.

He licked his lips, sat on the edge of the bed. "I was

thinking Utah. Or Louisiana. Maybe back toward Arizona. I
don't know. Look at your hands."

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"You like my hands, huh?" Keye beckoned, fingers curling

in little flicks.

"Uh-huh." He crawled over, body moving like there were

strings attached. "They're good for so much."

"They are. Touching. Bending things."
"Bending things." How cool was that? He ended up in reach

of those hands, and Keye grabbed him, pulling him across the
bed with a casual sort of strength that made his cock start to
rise. It was amazing how easily Keye moved him from one
spot to another.

"Good morning." He could leave in a minute. An hour.

Some time totally other than right now. "Afternoon.
Whatever."

"Hey. Don't run off in all directions, huh?" Keye's hand slid

down his back, the touch making his skin twitch. "We're
having fun."

"Can you do that? Run off in all..." His eyes crossed as that

touch found a hot spot and his spine lit up like a redneck
Fourth of July garden party, if rednecks had garden parties,
which, not normally, no. "Uh." Running sounded hard.

"I know how to have fun, babe."
"I like fun." He liked the way those hands made him tingle

even more.

"Oh. I do, too. It's a common misconception, the idea that

I'm always serious." Keye was touching him, pulling at him,
kissing him. All that was way better than worrying about
"next." Next was the bane of his fucking exist...Oh. Oh, right
there. "I kind of like next, magic. Better than dwelling on the
past." Keye bit him. Hard.

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His eyes went wide, the constant spinning of the room

stopping dead. That was like magic, that mouth, the little
bright burn of pain. He gasped, hands holding on tight. "Your
mouth. Keye."

"You like it, too, huh? Hands, mouth..." Keye licked at his

skin where the little flash of hurt still throbbed.

"Yes. I like. Feeling." Not in his head, but on his skin.
"Well, I got plenty of that, magic."
"Plenty." Oh, that sounded like a lovely promise.
"Mmmhmm. I like to get down and dirty."
Those hands dragged over his skin, fingernails digging in,

scoring his chest, his belly. It made him jump, made his
breath huff out as goose bumps rose. He couldn't quite think,
couldn't grab hold of the quicksilver flow of Keye's mind.

"What did I tell you before, huh? Breathe. Feel."
It was so hard to do that, but with Keye it came more

naturally.

He sucked in another deep breath, pushing into Keye's

touch. Natural. He could be... Oh, there. Please.

"Yeah." Keye nipped at him, licked at his skin, finding

erogenous zones he didn't know existed.

Jake started twisting—he couldn't help it; Keye made him

a little crazy.

"See how easy that is, honey? See how you just need to

lay it all down and let me think a bit?" Keye's teeth scraped
over his nipple.

Oh, that stung, so good. He nodded and his fingers got all

fascinated by the shape of Keye's ears, jaw. There was
strength there, stubbornness and stubble on the jaw. Those

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31

teeth were making his nipple burn, ache, so good. Keye was
relentless, licking, sucking, making his knees try to draw up
to his chest. Everything in him was wide awake, trapped in
sensation and Keye—who wasn't silent, but was so big that
nothing else got in. It was like thunder, kind of, echoing so
hard in his brain that nothing else crept in.

Keye's hands got into the action, fingers dragging along

his skin, digging in. It was like the most erotic massage
imaginable. Not like those documentaries he'd seen about
Bangkok. The ones with the fish and the weird sticks.

Keye started chuckling, breath fanning his skin.
He grinned, then gasped as Keye nipped him again. It was

so good that he stayed right there, letting Keye force
everything out of his mind. Soft sounds started hiccuping out
of him, his heart trip-hammering happily in his chest. Keye
was all around him, on top of him, teeth blunt and hard,
callused fingers pushing him higher and higher.

"Please." He didn't know what he wanted, but he knew

Keye could give it to him. Keye was like a genie. Or
something altogether more corporeal.

"I got you, magic." Keye's hand slipped down his back,

sliding up under his butt. The sting of a sharp slap there
made him gasp. Dude, that was so porn-movie good.

"Yes..." His head fell back and he groaned, wanting

another.

"Yeah?" He got another, then another, his skin alive,

tingling.

"Uh-huh. Yeah." That was a sweet burn, like dipping into a

Jacuzzi.

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Keye gave him a predatory grin and smacked him a few

more times before just resting one big hand on his ass. It
made his skin feel like it was glowing. His eyes crossed and
he moaned happily, rubbing against Keye, rocking between
body and hand. Yum.

"Sensual man." Keye kissed one bruise, then another. He

was going to look like he had leprosy. That actually worked in
his favor. People didn't bother lepers. At least he didn't think
so.

"Focus, honey." Keye pinched his skin a tiny bit.
"How..." Oh, sting-y.
"That's it." Keye pulled him on top, letting him straddle

Keye's lean hips. He leaned down, teeth testing the skin over
Keye's collarbone. It made Keye buck for him, and he loved
the bumpy ride of it. Their cocks moved together, sliding and
introducing each other like best friends. Or cats. Cats did
that, didn't they? Rub?

"Gotta admit, I've never done this with my best friend."

Keye moved him up and down.

"No. No, this isn't friendly."
"No, honey. This is good, hard fucking. There's nothing

friendly about it."

"Uh-huh. You're in my head. Is it like this for you?

Exciting?"

"Huh?" Keye blinked, hands pausing a moment.
"Hearing. Knowing. When I hear you, is it cool?"
"I guess?" Keye seemed pretty damned oblivious. Weird.
He brought their lips together. Kissing was way better than

thinking. Tastier, too. Hotter and yummier and all around

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oh... there. Keye nipped the spot just below his jaw. His eyes
crossed and his cock throbbed, his orgasm suddenly right
there.

"Now, honey. Right now." Something snapped inside him

when Keye bit him again, one rough thumb swiping Jake's
cock. The world hiccupped, shattered, and he came and
came, spilling himself out.

Keye made this amazing, growly noise that was pure

satisfaction. It slid right down his spine, leaving shivers
behind.

"Keye..." His eyes crossed.
"That's me, magic. Make me come now, huh?"
"Yes. God, yes." He wriggled down, chin bumping Keye's

prick, lips wrapping around the tip.

"Oh, yeah." Keye stroked his hair, his cheeks, encouraging

but not demanding.

He groaned, that touch feeding him nothing but pleasure.

He sucked and licked and Keye humped, starting to fuck his
face a little, which he'd always thought sounded better than it
felt, but this was good. Really good. Jake rolled the heavy
balls, pushing hard, needing to taste. The flavor was so
strong, so perfect, and Keye was moving faster, getting
needy. Greedy.

The little poem made him smile.
He hummed, his lips vibrating around Keye's cock. The

heavy prick slid along his tongue, Keye starting to lose his
grace, jerking a little. Mmm. Tasty. Strong. Delicious.

"Yes." That little word was all the warning he got before

Keye was coming for him.

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Good thing he wasn't one to panic. He swallowed hard,

sucking and groaning, making it last and last. Keye shook for
him, so hot, so strong and male that it made Jake want to
sing. Four-part harmony. He ended up resting on Keye's
belly, blinking slow, the world quiet and still. Oh.

"Get a little more rest, honey."
"Yeah?" His eyes closed.
"Yeah. We'll have to move on soon, so get some sleep,

huh?"

He wanted to ask where they were going, or why Keye

thought "they" would do anything, but his brain felt like fuzzy
cheese.

Soft and heavy.
Like the weight of Keye's hand on his forehead.

* * * *

Keye knew it was time to move on. He never knew how he

knew it, or why in hell Jake hadn't tripped his alarm, but now
it was jangling. Maybe he ought to head toward Vegas.

"They want to hurt you there. You should be careful." Jake

looked over from the bed. "I have to try and get my car to a
mechanic."

Keye stretched, evincing calm. "We can do that, honey."
"We?" Jake didn't have any desire to leave him, just a

vague idea that he ought to.

"Yep. You need a keeper, I need a way to know who's

coming for me."

"I already told you that." Jake slowly rolled up off the bed,

stretched.

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"Yeah, but you want to keep me safe, just in case

someone else comes." He watched, making sure Jake didn't
make any sudden moves.

Jake chuckled. "I'm not the sudden move type. You won't

hurt me." Jake sounded so sure.

"I sure don't want to. Just don't want you to try to run."

That was super important, somehow.

Jake stepped away from him, frowning. "I don't want you

to, either."

"Well, there you go." Keye shook his head to clear it.

Talking to this man was like dancing in a minefield in the rain.

He could feel Jake pulling away, heading into the kitchen,

searching for something—something sugary, he'd bet.

"How about some coffee, magic?" Keye went to the

bathroom; Jake wasn't gonna run, at least not now.

When he got out, the coffeemaker was doing its thing and

Jake was on the back porch, eating toast with jam, staring
out into the trees, mind going a million miles a minute. The
noise was a little like an old coffee percolator, making him
think of a commercial he barely remembered from when he
was a kid. Pop, pop, pop.

Jake's laughter sounded, all musical and fine.
"Did you make me toast, too?" He got him a cup of joe.
Jake nodded. "I put peanut butter on yours."
The toast was wrapped in about forty thousand paper

towels. He hoped it didn't peel the pb and j off, but he
guessed it would keep the flies off.

"Fly feet are nasty. Nasty, Keye."

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"I bet. They land all over." He was losing count of Jake's

neuroses.

"They're not neuroses. I'm not crazy. They think. The little

fuckers think, and it's nasty." Oh-ho. Temper, temper.

"Okay, honey." He held up the hand not covered in peanut

butter. "You're the expert."

"I think I need to go." Jake looked at him, dead on, so

serious, sun making that wild mass of hair glow around the
edges. "I know you think I shouldn't, but I make people
crazy. I know it. You be careful with you, huh?"

Then the little shit stood up like he was just going to walk

away, even made it down the steps. Keye closed the distance
between them in a few easy steps and grabbed Jake's arm.
"I'll tell you when you make me crazy. You're worse than me,
not knowing what to do with folks."

Jake's eyes crossed a little, and Keye had to resist the

urge to just kiss the man stupid. They really needed to do
something besides fuck, but it sure was tempting.

"Look. I get it. I'm a nut and..." Jake hummed, one hand

on the center of his chest.

"I like nuts. Pecans. Walnuts. Jakes." Keye liked the way

Jake rubbed all up on him the best.

"I... you're distracting me." Jake stepped closer, both of

them migrating toward the cabin. Up the stairs. Through the
back door. Away from the mosquitoes, which worried Jake,
with the buzzing and the hunger and didn't that thought make
Keye smile?

"I mean to. I have to have time to convince you that you

won't make me crazy."

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"What?" Jake's hands slid up his arms.
"You just have to trust me, honey." He kissed Jake's

mouth, tongue flicking. Jake's little moan fascinated him, and
the way the man pressed into him was a frigging addiction.
He slid his hands beneath that tight little ass and lifted,
needing more contact.

"Keye." Jake's ass went tight, body arching toward him.

"Damn. You. I."

"You. Me. Toast." He was feeling almost cheerful. Weird.
"Toast." One dark eye and one light stared at him. "I like

you, Keye."

"Good." He kissed Jake hard, letting the touch take him

back to that happy place. It was damned easy with Jake. The
world started spinning, swirling in rainbow colors, making him
dizzy as Jake opened to him. Crazy.

Then he heard Jake's voice, down in his soul. Keye!

Someone's coming!

Shit. He tore himself away, instinctively pushing Jake down

toward the safest place, which was a table. Then he jumped
to one side, going for the weapon he had hidden in the main
room. Information crashed on him—three men in an SUV,
long-range weapons, pros. One was allergic to peanuts. Jon,
Frank, Peter. Peter's mom had cancer.

Jesus, was this what Jake's mind was like all the time?
He guessed he could always fling his peanut butter toast at

the one guy if the gun didn't work.

Jake frowned. "If they don't slow down, they'll hit my car."
Keye checked the Glock to make sure it wouldn't jam up

on him. "She'll be okay."

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Jake went to the window, stared out, a frown on his face.

No, no; going out to discuss things with them would not help.

"They want to kill me, magic. Not big on words, these

guys. Go sit in the bathtub."

"I don't want them to kill you." Jake shivered, stepped

away. "God, they're ugly. How can they do what you do and
be so different from you? I hate crowds."

"I'm just special." He slapped that fine butt. "Go, get in the

tub." He would handle the ugly.

"In the tub." Jake went, fingers trailing over his arm.

"Okay."

"The bathroom doesn't have windows, the tub is porcelain-

covered cast iron." He grabbed Jake and gave the man a
hard, brief kiss. "If I don't have to worry about you, I can do
my job better."

"Just do your job."
Keye nodded, glad that he had more time than that first

vision had shown him. By the time the vehicle with the would-
be assassins in it flew around the bend, he had sweats on,
and both of his hand weapons were on his person.

The first round of bullets came from the passenger's side

as the truck pulled up. Not particularly delicate, that. Not
particularly effective, either. He wasn't exactly a careless drug
dealer who could be taken out by a drive-by. He took out the
front tire of the truck with his first shot.

The truck went spinning, the front end slamming into

Jake's car. Huh. Looked like Jake was right. Imagine that.

He took aim, took out the driver, then the front-seat

passenger. Two down, one to go. The last one rolled out of

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the car and did some sort of Jackie Chan run and roll and leap
toward the house.

Wow. Seriously? Where did these assholes get hired? Stunt

Men R Us?

He shook his head, holding his position. There was no way

anyone was going to get past his position, so he just had to
be patient.

One of the windows blew out, and he groaned. Great.

Glass. There went his deposit. Still, at least he could judge
the angle of attack and get ready. Patience was his strong
suit. Let the guy come to him.

And come the asshole did, although it was through too

many windows to be one guy, and one of those windows was
in the back near Jake.

Fuck. Fuck a goddamn duck. There were only supposed to

be three. He took out the guy from the front, then headed to
the back of the cabin.

He heard Jake, the gasp half surprised, half pissed off.
Shit some more. Kaye put on a burst of speed, sliding

toward the bathroom, coming in low.

"....leave me alone. I am not either bait and if you don't

stop I'll tell everyone you still wet the bed!"

The guy staggered back from Jake, who was hitting him

with a toilet plunger. Keye laughed, the sound embarrassingly
like a braying donkey.

The guy turned, drew down on him, and the wood handle

of the plunger came down on the man's wrist. Hard. "I. Said.
NO!"

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Keye broke off laughing as well as he could and grabbed

the gun from the guy as it fell. Then he dragged the fool out
of the bathroom. "How many more?"

"Fuck you."
"Two, but you shot one. The other one is outside waiting to

shoot us. They're Frank's friends and they came on
motorcycles." Jake sighed, hit the guy with the plunger again.
"And if you bite him, he'll hurt you, Dwayne, so don't."

Keye wanted to hurt the guy, anyway. "Is that an accurate

count this time, magic?"

"As far as he knows." Jake looked a little shocky. "I can

only know what they know, and Frank didn't know they were
coming."

"I mean right now." He just needed to know if there were

any more about to storm the house. Hang in there, magic.

I will.
Jesus. He heard that.
Jake nodded. "The one outside with a rifle. His name is

Sam and he hits his girlfriend. She's sleeping with Dwayne
here, too. Tawdry."

"Thanks, babe. Get me the tie off that robe." He wanted to

shoot the guy, but he figured he'd use the one they had to
draw out the bad guy who was still out there.

"Okay." Jake was holding together—just barely, but he was

holding on.

Keye tied the guy up. "Stay away from the windows,

magic. I need to go draw fire."

"Don't draw it to you."

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41

"Nope. To him, is all." He grinned and yanked the bound

asshole all the way out of the bathroom. He'd start shoving
the guy in front of windows.

"Fuck you, man. Let me go, asshole."
This was what happened when you hired amateurs. They

made stupid mistakes. The guy tried to fight him, and Keye
clubbed the bastard against the side of his head with a closed
fist. Enough of this bullshit. These assholes come in, worry his
magic man, break windows. He popped the unconscious man
in the next window over.

"Here, kitty. Come get him."

* * * *

Jake turned the water hotter, trying to scald off his skin.

He just. He had to go. He had to go away from here. This was
bad. This was bad and somehow he was involved and all he'd
wanted was money. He wasn't... this wasn't him. This whole
violence and scary and people with guns thing.

"Jake?"
Wow, Keye did know his name.
"Yeah?" He was freaking out a little bit. A man with a gun

had touched him.

"I need to clean up a bit, honey. Can I come in?"
"Are you okay?" He pushed the shower curtain open a

little; he didn't want Keye hurt. That was for sure.

"I'll do. Are you all right?"
He nodded. "No."

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Keye had already shucked his clothes and he looked pretty

clean, but he stepped in with Jake anyway. That was nice.
Warm.

"Is it too hot for you?" Was he too naked? Was this whole

thing too weird? Was he going to have a meltdown?

"I'm good." Keye pulled him close, let him rest against that

wide chest.

He'd been afraid that it would be nasty, awful, but it

wasn't. There was only silence. Yay.

Keye was like this amazing force field. He shut out the

world.

Jake's body started to shake, which was stupid, but there

it was. Shaking. He felt a little like Elvis.

"I got you, babe. Hunka hunka burnin' love."
He stopped, then bust out laughing, the joy so sudden and

so big it almost hurt. Keye laughed with him, bending to kiss
him a little before rinsing him off. Hard hands moved through
his hair, over his skin, petting him. "Come on, magic."

"Come where?" He followed, dripping, skin aching a little.
"Out here where we can stretch out." Keye had cleaned

up, and there was no evidence that anything bad had
happened. They lay on the bed, Keye easing him down, warm
and hard against him.

"I was going to..." Oh. Good. His eyes crossed and he

scooted closer, rubbing against the amazing heat that was
Keye.

"Nope. You were going to be right here with me and kiss

me, babe." Keye kissed him, lips on his, a little damp. Oh,
kissing. He nodded, tongue sliding on the little split in Keye's

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43

bottom lip. Keye's hands slid down his back, fingers spreading
his asscheeks. The man was focused.

Focused and wanting him—Jake could feel it everywhere,

deep. It was big enough to block out anything bad, and it
made him feel high, like Keye was the best kind of speed. He
was caught in it, addicted. That was a good thing, right? That
he liked what they were doing? Because Keye seemed weirdly
determined to keep him.

Keye nibbled on his bottom lip, tugged, dragging his focus

back to that mouth. They kissed deeper, harder, Keye rolling
him to his back and covering him.

Mine.
Jake heard it, clear as a bell, and he didn't bother arguing.

It was true, even after just twenty-four (Forty-eight? Thirty-
six? Who the fuck knew?) hours. He was Keye's. He could feel
it from the tips of his toes up through his balls. He was
Keye's, and that was that. Keye rubbed against him, cock
against his thigh.

Keye nodded for him, brought one of his legs up, spread

him. That put them in even closer contact, Keye's rough-
haired skin sliding along his, bringing up goose bumps. The
heat was overwhelming, chasing away the shocky chills he'd
had in the shower.

Yes. His lips opened, his whole world coming to a full stop.

Keye's tongue pushed into his mouth, tasting him, and that
heavy body slid between his thighs, Keye rocking back and
forth.

All Jake could do was moan and spread, make the offer

that he needed to make.

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"That's it." Keye murmured the words against his lips, long

fingers sliding down between them to press Jake's hole.
Those eyes held his, made the world so quiet, so still. He
hardly breathed. Keye pushed a little harder, one finger
slipping in, rough and scratchy and crazy good.

His eyes crossed and he found himself nodding, gasping a

little. Keye rumbled, the sound pure pleasure, and rubbed all
up on him again, hand trapped between them. Inside him.

More.
He wasn't sure which of them thought it, even. Maybe it

didn't matter. It seemed to echo back and forth between
them, getting bigger, the feeling growing and growing.

More. More. Moremoremoremoremoremoremore.
"Please. Please, Keye." He couldn't remember how to

breathe.

"Soon, magic. I promise. Don't want to hurt you."
"No. No, you don't." Keye was his center, where he

belonged.

"I got to find something." Keye pushed up a little, which

changed the angle of everything, making him see stars.

"Got to..." He arched, the world sparkling like a high-

budget cartoon background.

"Ha! Got it." Keye moved back down against him, jostling

all the good stuff all over.

Jake wasn't sure what "it" was, but he was ninety-nine

point eight five two percent sure he didn't give a fuck. He just
waited, and suddenly, there was lube. Boom. Keye must have
been reaching for that.

Such a good man.

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The fingers that pushed in were hard, sure, way more on

the side of evil than good. Jake approved. Keye opened him
up, got him good and wet, which was nice, really, because he
was ready for the fucking to commence.

"Deep and hard." He was fairly sure Keye knew, but

sometimes reiteration was necessary.

"I got you, babe. I promise." Keye's fingers slipped free,

the hard cock pushing against his hole, so big it almost hurt,
which was perfect.

His body knew what it needed and he bore back, taking

more, wanting more. Keye gave him everything he needed,
sliding deep inside, hitting that mythical sweet spot like it was
no problem at all.

It was nice to not even have to gasp or nod or say

anything. Keye just pegged it again. In fact, the man seemed
to have a real talent for it. Bang.

Jake's eyes closed and they started fucking—good and

hard, their skin slapping together enough it stung. Keye was
making these noises, full-on caveman grunts, and it was
hotter than the hubs of Hades, which his mom had always
said and it never made sense. Until now.

Now.
Keye groaned, then bit his shoulder, shattering any

thoughts of anything but pleasure. His legs pushed up to curl
around Keye's waist, his breath panting out in heavy waves.
God, he was going to pass out.

Not before he came, though, hard enough to rattle his

bones.

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It took all of two or three seconds of him shaking and

squeezing, and Keye was right there with him, coming hard
for him, deep inside. It was better than anything, even toast.

Keye chuckled. "Fuck, magic, you do make me happy."
The words made him nod, belly hot. He barely knew this

man, but Keye's ultimate happiness seemed really important.
Really, really.

Weird, but basically okay.
Keye slumped down a little, leaning on him. "Better?"
"Uh-huh." Keye made almost everything better, in some

strange way.

"Cool. We'll nap a little before we head to Vegas."
"Vegas?" Wait. What? "There are bad guys in Vegas,

Keye."

"There are. And unless I go settle with them, they'll keep

coming. I have a mind to take a nice long vacation with you."

"I worry." Those hands made it easier to relax, though.
"I know. You'll help me." Keye sounded so sure, and the

hand that pushed through his hair was firm, comfortable. Not
tangly at all, as if Keye's fingers oozed No More Tangles,
which ew, but also interesting, because instant lube...
assuming that stuff was lubey, of course.

Keye shook him, hard. "Focus, magic."
He had no idea what to say but, "Okay. Let's go to Vegas."
His feet were itchy to move, after all, and Keye was like

his own personal calamine lotion. With a gun.

How cool was that?
end

* * * *

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