CALEB

Book Two: Torn In Two

CJ BISHOP

Chapter One

Shell Shocked

No, this can’t be right. I’m dreaming, I have to be.

Caleb stood frozen in place, paralyzed by Brock Coulson’s stare. The shock in the man’s eyes

was evident—but surely only to Caleb because he knew the attorney’s secret vice. But to his family,

the man could cover. He knew how to keep control, remain calm, even in the worst of the worst

situation. Caleb did not.

Somehow he broke from his paralytic state and turned away. Samuel’s focus was on his

stepdad, thankfully, and didn’t seem to notice Caleb’s sudden shift in demeanor.

“Vile brothel?” Samuel cocked an eyebrow. “We were having dinner…not fucking on the

dining room table.” He shrugged and smiled dryly. “Although…couldn’t promise it wouldn’t have led

to that.”

Nausea was welling up fast as quick, flashing images of him and Brock in the private booth

began to snap through Caleb’s head. The man’s hands had been all over him, his cock rubbing through

his ass, coming all over him. He’s going to be doing a lot more to you as well.

“Take your filthy little whore out of my home.” Brock spoke low, smooth, with no indication

that he’d just made a deal to fuck the filthy little whore himself.

Samuel’s quick wit dissipated in an instant. “Don’t you fucking talk about him that way.”

“Get him out of here.” Brock ordered, still calm but his voice had turned to dry ice and Caleb

could feel the stinging burn.

Caleb didn’t wait for Samuel to respond. He ducked his head and moved hurriedly around

Samuel’s parents and headed for the front door.

“Caleb!” Samuel called after him and threw a curse at his dad before rushing to catch up. He

grabbed Caleb’s arm, halting him at the door. “Hey. I’m sorry about that. The guy’s a prick.”

“Just take me home.” Caleb pulled open the door, throat closing as his eyes began to burn.

Filthy little whore. Just hearing those words come out of the attorney’s mouth made him feel like just

that. Anger scalded and mingled with the shame. I should’ve fucking outed you right then and there,

you hypocritical motherfucker! But as much as he despised the reality of it—he needed the man. As

of now, he had no other options available, and he didn’t suspect any would present themselves.

Once in the car, the engine running smoothly, Samuel sat gripping the steering wheel before

driving away from the house. “Please don’t take it personally…what my dad said.” He looked at him.

“His problem is with me, not you. It wouldn’t have mattered who you were, he would have said the

same thing. He doesn’t know you.”

You’re wrong. He knows me better than you do . “It doesn’t matter.” Caleb mumbled,

avoiding his gaze. “Just take me home.”

Sighing, Samuel nodded. Silence settled between them for the duration of the drive back to

Caleb’s apartment. Though he didn’t ask him up, Samuel walked him to his door anyway. Caleb

hesitated before entering, hoping the guy would just say good night and go. Though a part of him

needed Samuel with him more than ever tonight…the reality of the situation made him want to spend

the night with his head over the toilet, he felt so sick. But Samuel lingered until he could stall no

longer, and had to open the door.

“They weren’t supposed to be back tonight.” Samuel followed him inside and closed the door

behind him.

“It’s all right.” Caleb murmured.

“No, it isn’t.” Samuel said quietly. “You’re upset about something. And if it isn’t that…then

what?”

Caleb shook his head. “Nothing. I just…don’t feel so good.”

Moving closer, Samuel slid his arms around him from behind and kissed his neck. “I can

stay.” He kissed his ear. “Take care of you. Wait on you hand and foot. You won’t even have to get

out of bed.” He smiled and whispered, “I’ll even give you a sponge bath if you like…Lord knows, I’d

like it.”

Caleb closed his eyes against the sting, aching to just lean into the man’s embrace, pull his

arms tighter around him and ask him to stay. He pulled away instead. “No. I’ll…be fine.”

A heavy silence dropped over Samuel for a moment. An ache crept into his voice when he

finally spoke. “I’m sorry if I’m pushing you, Caleb.” He said thickly. “Maybe the whole candlelight

dinner and all that was too much. I know I tend to get overzealous, and I apologize. I just…” he

swallowed hard. “I really like you. So much that it makes me crazy to be away from you for even a

few hours. I get it that I’m probably coming on way too strong, wanting too much too soon. But…I’ve

never felt this way about anyone before.” A sliver of fear pierced his voice. “I guess I’m just afraid

that if I take too much time to make my intentions clear…I’ll end up losing my chance with you.”

Please stop talking. Just go away. I don’t want to know these things.

He flinched when Samuel’s arms went around him again then turned him to face him. His

hands cupped Caleb’s face and he kissed him softly, passionately. “If you want me to back off, Caleb,

I will.” He whispered thickly. “I understand if you need space to think things through. But please,

don’t push me away altogether.” He touched his lips to Caleb’s brow and closed his eyes. “It would

kill me, baby.”

Caleb gripped his shirt lightly and leaned his head against his shoulder. “It’ll kill me too.” He

whispered so low he wasn’t sure Samuel could hear him. But the man’s arms wrapped tighter around

him and held him close, his lips pressing to Caleb’s hair.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you, Caleb.” He murmured. “Even if it means taking a step

back. If that’s what you need…”

Caleb squeezed his shirt tighter in his fists and tried to swallow past the knot forming in his

throat. What I need…I can’t have.

* * * *

It wasn’t until Samuel was pulling up in front of his house that the full weight of Caleb’s

words dropped down on him. It’ll kill me too. Samuel’s brow creased as he sat in the car, staring at

the house. He hadn’t said ‘It would kill me too’ but it will. As if it was a destined future occurrence.

Maybe he hadn’t meant it that way, just a slip of sentence structure. Still, his hands tightened

around the steering wheel as his gut twisted with a feeling of dread. Stop over analyzing it. It didn’t

mean anything. You’re making something out of nothing. Yet Caleb hadn’t asked him to stay, had

even seemed to be urging him to leave.

It’s like you said, he just needs some space. Stop suffocating him. He’ll come around.

Samuel did his best to take comfort in that reasoning, but his stomach was still tied in knots

when he entered the house. He had no wish to even look at his parents, his dad in particular. The

man’s coarse words boiled Samuel’s blood. Who the fuck did he think he was calling Caleb a filthy

little whore? Though Caleb had denied it, Samuel was sure that part of what had him upset was the

encounter with Samuel’s dad. Perhaps Caleb had taken the man’s words to heart because of how

quickly he and Samuel had fucked each other—and continued to do so.

“Samuel.” His dad’s stern voice grabbed him by the back of the neck and halted him as he

started up the wide staircase.

He groaned and turned around. “What?” His tone bit sharply at the man.

Brock’s eyes were hard as cold steel. “What do you think you were doing bring that into our

home?”

“That?” Samuel stared at him. “That is named Caleb. And he is a hell of a good guy. And it

was real shitty of you to say what you said.”

“Where did you meet him?” Brock asked, ignoring Samuel’s words.

“What do you care?” When his dad just looked at him dryly, Samuel sighed. “At the pool, all

right?”

Brock shook his head. “No. It isn’t all right. Break it off with him.”

“Excuse me?” Samuel frowned.

Speaking almost casually, but with a strong ‘I’m not bullshitting’ note in his voice, he said, “I

want you to stop seeing him.”

“Why?” Samuel’s heart pounded, anger rising. Who the fuck did he think he was?

Brock looked at him as if he were an idiot. “We have an image to uphold.” He said stiffly.

“Both socially and where the firm is concerned. When we bring trash into our lives…it creates a

stench that can’t be washed away.”

Trash? What a fucking self-important, arrogant bastard. Caleb had more class at twenty-one

than Brock Coulson would ever have.

“So do me a favor, and don’t stink up our lives with your skanky boy toys.”

Samuel’s jaw clenched until his head began to throb and pound. “Do you a favor?” he hissed.

“Fuck you. I’m not breaking it off with Caleb. If you want to fire me from the firm, be my guest. I

never wanted the fucking job in the first place.”

“You do realize that I pay your expenses.” Brock reminded. “Including your pansy ass

culinary classes.”

Samuel stepped down off the stairs. “If you think you can blackmail me with that, think again.

I’ll find a way to pay for my classes. Get a different job, away from the firm.”

“You? Get a real job?” Brock chuckled cynically. “You’re about the laziest motherfucker I

ever met in my life.”

“Lazy?” Samuel fumed. “I do more down at that fucking firm than you do!”

Brock chuckled again. “I’m sure you’ve convinced yourself that’s true. But the reality is, if I

didn’t force you to work, all you would do is spend every waking second with your cock up some

fag’s ass.” He looked at Samuel with dull eyes. “Maybe if your dad hadn’t coddled you like some

fucking little sissy boy, you would know what it meant to be a real man.”

“Don’t you ever fucking talk about my father!” Samuel raged. “You’ll never be the man he

was.”

“Well,” Brock smiled coolly and walked past him. “Thank God for that.”

“Fuck you!” Samuel turned sharply and took the stairs two at a time, slamming his bedroom

door hard once he was inside. “Motherfucker!”

He dropped down on his bed, chest heaving, eyes burning. The urge to jump in his car and

drive back to Caleb’s apartment was almost more than he could resist. He needed Caleb’s arms

around him, the serenity of just being with him. Somehow he could make the world go away and carry

Samuel off to another plane of reality.

Grabbing his phone, he began typing out a text message.

* * * *

When his cell went off, Caleb stared at the name hovering on the display screen. He wanted to

see Caleb, talk to him. A pressure squeezed his chest; what would he say? After what happened

tonight…was it all over? He looked at the phone, vision blurring, distorting the words of the text. Can

I come over?

Hands shaking, Caleb replied; Yes. Then snapped the phone closed and laid it on the bed as

his head dropped in his hands and the tears broke, sobs racking his body. Samuel’s face rose behind

his eyes, the ache in the man’s voice from earlier filling his head. He loves you—for real. Caleb

shook his head and choked on his cries. “No. I don’t want him to love me. I just want him…to go

away.”

But the truth was…that was a lie.

His head was still cradled in his hands when someone knocked at the door twenty minutes

later. Tears dripped off his face and landed on the top of his bare feet, trickling down between his

toes and seeped into the carpet.

Another knock, and Caleb lifted his head and wiped his arm across his face and stood up,

stomach twisting and churning. He walked to the door, hesitated, cleared his throat, then opened it

slowly. He stared at the man a moment, then mumbled, “Come in.” And stepped back, making room

for Brock Coulson to enter.

Chapter Two

A Bad Situation

“I didn’t know.” Caleb murmured as he stood near the door, feeling violated by just having the

man in his private living quarters. “I didn’t know he was your son.” Why are you explaining? It’s not

his business who you date or fuck. He doesn’t fucking own you. But, in a sense—didn’t he?

“Step son.” A sour note tainted his voice as if he were ashamed to have anyone think Samuel

was his real son. He walked casually through the center of the small living room, looking around,

then turned and faced Caleb. His eyes were heavy with sexual hunger as they skimmed down Caleb’s

body then back up to his face. “If we are to go forward with this…arrangement,” He moved towards

Caleb. “You have to stop seeing Samuel. Entirely. No contact whatsoever. Those are the stipulations.

Accept them, or we abort this here and now.”

No contact with Samuel at all? Caleb knew it would have to come to this, but…having it laid

it out this way, with no other recourse, no way to change his mind—it was a blow to his heart he

hadn’t expected. What would Samuel say when he told him he couldn’t see him anymore? Just tonight

he’d begged Caleb not to push him away altogether. But there was nothing else for him to do.

“Okay.” Caleb whispered thickly and resisted the tears stinging his eyes. “I won’t…see him

anymore.”

Brock chuckled. “Well, you are certainly more cooperative than Samuel.” He was coming too

close. Caleb took a step back.

“What? What do you mean?”

The man let his gaze slide slowly over Caleb’s body. “When I told him to stop seeing you, he

basically told me to fuck off.” He reached out and touched Caleb’s face, causing him to flinch. “So

glad you’re willing to let go without a fight.” He smiled dryly. “It’s good you’re not as… attached to

Samuel as he is to you. I thought he was going to blow a gasket. He should take a lesson from you in

remaining detached.”

Caleb’s heart began to crush in on itself; was Brock telling the truth? Had Samuel really

refused to stop seeing him? The way Brock was looking at him—Caleb could see it in his eyes that he

knew Caleb wasn’t detached. And he seemed to be taking pleasure in the reality that he was tearing

Caleb away from Samuel…and would soon be fucking the one boy his step son loved and desired

most.

“Don’t.” Caleb swallowed hard when Brock slipped his hands up under the hem of his shirt.

“We agreed…you would meet with my brother first.”

“I’ll take his case.” Brock murmured and nuzzled Caleb’s ear. “I’m a man of my word. And

I’m sure there’ll be no problem finding a loophole.”

Caleb stiffened, aching to shove the man away. “He doesn’t need a loophole. He’s innocent.”

“Of course he is.” Brock chuckled low and nipped his earlobe, pushing his hard crotch against

Caleb’s body, pinning him to the wall. “Aren’t they all?”

“Nick is innocent.” Caleb insisted, jaw tightening, heart racing as the man’s hands began to

boldly explore all over.

“No worries, baby.” Brock panted, his mouth gliding along Caleb’s jaw line and finding his

mouth, kissing him hard. “Innocence is incidental. I’ll get him off.” He smirked and bit Caleb’s lower

lip. “As long you keep getting me off.”

The man didn’t believe Nick was innocent. But it didn’t change the fact that Caleb needed his

skills as an aggressive attorney. What did it matter if Brock Coulson believed in Nick’s innocence?

He would be released and that’s all that mattered.

When Caleb squirmed and resisted Brock’s hand as it attempted to shove down inside the

front of his pants, the man said tightly, “My time is worth more than your hick brother’s life. I want to

damn well know I’m getting my time and money’s worth.”

Caleb Stared at him silently; how could he refuse him? The man held all the winning cards.

“How about…” Brock slid his thumb across Caleb’s lower lip, letting it dip between and into

his mouth. “You give me the grand tour…starting with your bedroom.” He rubbed the pad of his

thumb over the surface of Caleb’s tongue, looking at him expectantly. Caleb tightened his lips around

his digit, grabbed it with his tongue and sucked sensually. Brock groaned and pushed himself against

the younger man. “Let’s see if you’re as good at sucking cock.”

He slowly withdrew his thumb from between Caleb’s lips and stepped back.

Nausea tightened Caleb’s insides when a quick glance at Brock’s crotch revealed just how

engorged his cock was.

Just take it and make him believe you like it.

* * * *

“Are you…going somewhere?” Nick rolled over, coming out of a mild slumber when he

heard the hulk moving around the cell. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. The guy was gathering up

what few belonging he had, and placing them in a box. Nick shoved up on one elbow. “Jacob?”

“I’m being transferred to another facility.” He mumbled. “Tomorrow morning.”

Nick sat up and leaned on his knees. “Seriously?” After the incident in the shower, he’d began

to feel a little safer having Jacob around—and on his side. But more than that, he was finding that the

big guy was great friend material and in here, Nick could use all the friends he could get. But now he

was leaving? Nick shot a quick glance heavenward. Come on, man—really? Why even let us become

friends if you’re just gonna send him away?

As usual, God wasn’t in a chatty mood, nor did he seem to feel the need to explain himself to

the likes of Nicolas Dean.

“Where they sending you?” Nick asked.

Jacob sighed and shrugged. “Upstate.” Nick couldn’t tell if he was sorry to be going, or if he

was simply resigned to the routine of prison life. It seemed whenever a person started to get

accustomed to one place, they were uprooted and sent elsewhere. As if the system itself was against

them having any ties with anyone, any sense of belonging or camaraderie.

“Well,” Nick cleared his throat. “I’m gonna miss all your chatty repartee.” He smiled when a

chuckle rumbled in the man’s thick chest. “Don’t know how I’ll handle all the quiet.”

“Fuck.” Jacob chuckled again and looked at him. “I’ll miss you too.” He said sincerely.

Nick smiled. “I’m starting to feel all gooey inside.”

“Shit.” Jacob shook his head. “Save that for your next room mate.” He shot Nick a sly look.

“Maybe he’ll be young and hot.”

Ducking his head, Nick cleared his throat and smiled, lips tight. “Is it that obvious?”

“I notice things.” He said, grinning. “Like the way you discreetly ogle some of them boys out

in the yard. I know what you prefer.”

“Yeah, well.” Nick chuckled. “What I prefer isn’t often found in places like this.”

“Oh I don’t know.” Jacob smirked. “Some of them pretty boys are…pretty bad boys.”

Nick lay back down on his bunk and grinned. “Well it’s good to know there’s hope.”

Ah Caleb, what would you think of your big brother if you really knew what he dreamed

and fantasized about?

* * * *

Just shut it off. Don’t think about what you’re doing…or who you’re doing it to.

The sight of Brock Coulson laying on his bed, stripped down to bare, raw flesh, cock stiff and

swollen and dripping cum juice—it filled Caleb with both nausea and despair. That place right there

on his pillows…that was Samuel’s spot. And the man seemed to know it as he stared at Caleb and

slowly stroked his cock in his fist.

Without waiting to be instructed, Caleb went to the bed and crawled in between the guy’s legs

as he spread them apart, giving him ample room. Brock leaned forward, released his member and

grabbed Caleb’s shirt, dragging it up over his head. Sitting up, he unfastened Caleb’s pants. “Stroke

my cock.” He panted, working hurriedly at getting his own hands on Caleb’s dick.

Kneeling between Brock’s thighs, sitting back on his heels, Caleb took hold of his hard shaft.

The cock jumped at his touch and pulsed, clear cum juice bubbling at the tip and dribbling down the

sides. Caleb did his best to numb his mind as he began to slide his hands up and down the guy’s dick,

his fluids smearing his hard, heated flesh, slicking the surface.

“Fuck.” Brock groaned, his own hands faltering momentarily as he just basked in the pleasure

of the hand job. “Squeeze a little harder…make it hurt so good, baby.”

Don’t fucking call me baby . Caleb closed his eyes and tightened his grip on the man’s cock,

wanting to clench hard enough to make him scream in real pain, but knowing better than to go that far.

He applied just enough pressure to make the man suck in a sharp breath but then groan deep and rock

his hips, pushing up through the tight cave.

His hands went to work again, fumbling with Caleb’s zipper, getting his pants open. Then he

was dragging Caleb’s cock out and stroking him hard, squeezing with equal pressure that was being

applied to him, pumping Caleb’s dick until it hardened in his fists. “Oh fuck, baby…that’s it…get

good and hard. Maybe if you’re real good to me…I’ll suck you till you scream.”

Caleb didn’t reply. Though his body was responding physically to the man’s touch, he didn’t

want Brock’s mouth on his cock. He’d had Samuel suck him so amazingly, blowing his mind. He

didn’t want those memories soiled by this man. Biting back an instinctive groan as Brock’s skillful

hands stroked his cock, thumbs massaging the head until it began to excrete pearl drops of clear cum

juice, Caleb tried to calm his breathing. He didn’t want to get worked up, sexually hungry. But the

body couldn’t always obey the heart, or even the mind. On reflex, his hips pushed against Brock’s

hands, driving his cock through the guy’s fists.

“Oh fuck yes.” Brock panted. “Want it, baby…get it.”

Shame and self-loathing rushed over Caleb as his body began to crave satisfaction from the

man, needing him to push him over the edge.

Brock let loose of Caleb’s member and grabbed the back of his head, fingers curling into his

hair, pushing him down between his legs. “Suck me now.” Desperation squeezed his voice and his

hands were insistent as he directed Caleb’s mouth to his cock. “Now dammit…suck my cock.”

The instant Caleb’s mouth covered the tip, Brock thrust his hips, shoving the head into his

throat. He gagged and pulled back a little, but the man clutched his hair, not allowing him to pull off

completely, and began to fuck his mouth with long strokes.

“Fuck! Yes!” Brock shouted, manually moving Caleb’s head, working his mouth up and down

his cock. Caleb choked when the thick head pushed in deeper, and he jerked his mouth off his dick,

coughing. “Don’t bullshit me.” Brock panted, annoyed. “I know you can take it. You don’t work in a

place like the Phoenix and not know how to swallow cock.” He pulled Caleb forward again. “Now

take it right.”

Tears welled up as only now did Caleb begin to fully understand what he’d gotten himself

into. The man had no shred of decency or care for others. Caleb blinked back the tears and closed his

eyes, allowing Brock to shove himself back inside his mouth, struggling to accommodate the man’s

engorged flesh.

What will it be like when he actually fucks you?

Chapter Three

Too Hard to Say Goodbye

Samuel skipped work. Fuck ‘em. Why should he bust his ass when he was getting no credit

for the effort he put forth? When the text from Nolan Emery came in, Samuel deleted it. Emery was

simply the conduit through which his dad bitched at him.

So rather than go to the firm, he drove to Caleb’s apartment instead. He had no idea what

hours he worked, or even which club he worked at. He hadn’t replied to his text last night, and that

had Samuel feeling uneasy. From the moment his parents had crashed their dinner date, Caleb had

done an about face. He could see it in the guy’s eyes last night when Samuel had first picked him up—

he’d been ready to spend the night in Samuel’s bed. Now…it felt as if he were pulling away, and

doing so quite rapidly.

Standing outside Caleb’s door, his hand hesitated before knocking. The dread churning in his

gut was beginning to make him sick. He didn’t know why he felt it so strong, but it was there and he

couldn’t shake it. His knuckles rapped on the door. When silence met him from the other side, he

knocked again, a little louder. About the time he was convinced Caleb wasn’t home, he heard

footsteps inside the apartment, a notable hesitation at the door that ground up his guts even more, then

the lock twisted and the door finally opened, though not with eagerness.

Caleb stood in the partially open door, not at all looking as if he were going to invite him in.

He wore a plain white t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair messed. Undeniably sexy as hell. But the

surge of sexual heat was thwarted by the slight redness that rimmed his heavy, damp eyes.

“Caleb?” Samuel frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He mumbled and averted his eyes.

“You said you weren’t feeling good last night.” Samuel said with concern. “Are you still

feeling bad?”

Swallowing thickly, Caleb shrugged. “I might…be coming down with something. Nothing to

worry about.”

“I’ll always worry about you if you’re sick.” Samuel murmured and stepped closer to the door

that seemed unwilling to let him pass. “I’m not working today. Let me take care of you.” He held up

one hand. “I swear, no funny business.” He smiled warmly. “I’ll make you some gourmet chicken

soup. The best you’ve ever tasted, and guaranteed to get you back on your feet in no time.”

The slight gloss in Caleb’s eyes seemed to thicken and shimmer as he stared at the floor.

“Thanks,” he said thickly, tears wetting his voice. “But I don’t feel like eating. I just want to…sleep.”

“Caleb.” Samuel flattened his palm against the door when it started to close. “I know

something is wrong. Please talk to me. There’s nothing you can’t tell me.” His lips tightened and

throat began to knot. “Did…I do something wrong? Are you pissed at me? If so, at least let me know

why. Then yell at me, punch me, whatever. But let’s just deal with it.” He smiled again though it felt

weighted. “I mean, I thought that was the good thing about being gay…we’re both guys and we don’t

do that chic thing and clam up when we’re mad. We’re supposed to cuss and swear and punch walls,

and just get it all out at once.”

Shaking his head slowly, Caleb whispered, “I’m not mad at you. I just…don’t feel good. And

I don’t feel like having company right now.”

There was more to it than that. A hell of a lot more. Samuel could feel it, see it in Caleb’s

face. The guy looked like he was on the verge of breaking down. Had he received bad news from his

brother? He hadn’t said how their visit had gone. But this didn’t feel like the time to push him to talk.

“Okay.” Samuel murmured then leaned in for a light kiss. His heart went static when Caleb turned

away just a little, but enough to evade the kiss.

“I’m sick.” He mumbled. “I don’t want to make you sick too.”

“Baby, the only thing that will make me sick is not getting to kiss you today.” He didn’t give

the guy a chance to reply or respond, and kissed his mouth, his lips lingering. “I’m here for you, babe,

if you need anything. Anything at all. Just call or text and I’ll be here in a heartbeat.” He touched

Caleb’s face and turn his head, urging him to look at him. “You matter to me, Caleb. A lot. I meant it

when I said you’re the best thing in my life. If something is wrong…please tell me so we can work it

out. I couldn’t bear losing you.”

Caleb turned his face away again and Samuel noticed the tears barely held at bay. But

whatever was wrong, he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.

“Get some rest, babe.” Samuel said softly, aching to just take him to bed and hold him, soothe

away whatever it was that was putting those damnable tears in his beautiful eyes. “Is it okay if I come

by later and talk?”

A notable hesitation gripped Caleb, but then he nodded. “Yeah.” He whispered thickly and his

chin trembled ever so slightly, but just enough to rip holes in Samuel’s heart. Baby, what’s wrong?

What’s hurting you so bad? Please say it isn’t me, something I’ve done.

His lips tightened as he struggled with the sting of his own tears. “Okay.” He cleared his

throat then reached out and rubbed the back of his fingers down Caleb’s warm, somewhat flushed

cheek. “I’ll be here. Then we’ll talk. Everything will be okay, baby. It will. I won’t allow things to

not be okay between us. I swear I won’t.”

The young man simply nodded but there was nothing in the gesture that expressed faith in

Samuel’s words.

* * * *

“Listen up.” Jacob squeezed Nick’s shoulder with affection. “You take care of yourself, all

right?” The man was packed and ready to leave as soon as a guard showed up to escort him out.

“These guys in here, they don’t play by the rules, so neither can you. Don’t be afraid to fight dirty and

hit below the belt—literally. It may be a cliché but it still holds true—only the strong survive.” He

gripped Nick’s shoulder more firmly. “Sometimes you gotta do things you’re not proud of just to make

it through. Remember your little brother on the outside, and if for no other reason—you keep fighting

for him. Having someone to look out for is about the best motivator there is. And it’s amazing the

strength you can dig up when you have someone counting on you.”

The man spoke true; Caleb was his sole reason for even being alive.

“You’re a lot tougher than you know, Nick.” Jacob said. “And once you prove that, your time

in here is going to get a whole lot easier.”

“I’ll remember that.” Nick nodded slowly. “Thanks.” He hated to see the man go. It was nice

having someone to talk to, even confide in.

“Thank you.” Jacob said. “For your help…with the letter. Maybe one day….” he shrugged,

sadness in his eyes. “They’ll find it within them to forgive me. And if they don’t…I’ll understand that

too.”

Nick said quietly, “Keep the faith.”

“You believe in all that?” the man looked at him, sincerity in his question. “God, I mean. You

really believe there’s something out there greater than us…who cares?”

Nick had all kinds of one-sided conversations with God…but did he really believe there was

anyone on the other side hearing or listening? He looked at Jacob and smiled, “Yeah. I do. Don’t

know why, but I do.”

Rubbing a slow hand over his mouth, Jacob nodded. “Well, if someone like you can still

believe, after all you’ve been through…then maybe there’s something to it.”

The guard approached the cell. “You ready to go, Jacob?” The man was pleasant, unlike some

of the guards who didn’t mind abusing their authority.

“Yeah.” Jacob picked up the box that housed the full extent of what was left of his life, and

looked at Nick. “Remember what I said.” He smiled and winked, “And find your inner Hulk.”

Nick chuckled softly, a tightness to his throat. “I’ll sure as hell try.”

“Be seeing you.” Jacob gave him one last nod and followed the guard out the door and down

the corridor.

“See ya.” Nick murmured and sat down on the edge of his bunk, already feeling the loneliness

trying to press in. He leaned forward on his knees and stared at the hard floor. I stood up for you,

God. Said I believed in you, even though you haven’t exactly given me cause. So how about a little

courteous reciprocation…and send some kind of sign you’re even there at all. It would be damn

nice to know I’m not alone here.

Nick rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes. The reality of his situation, how much

time he had left in this place…it pushed in harder when there was no one in his constant company to

distract him. And the likelihood of God answering back was about a billion to one-

“Hey.”

The low, somewhat soft male voice startled Nick and he snapped his head up. He stared,

speechless, at the angel standing nervously in the open door of the cell; sky blue eyes beneath corn

silk locks, and skin as smooth as cream. The kid couldn’t have been more than twenty at the most, and

looked younger than that. Oh you sweet angel…what are you doing down here in hell?

The kid entered uncertainly as Nick stood slowly to his feet. “I’m…Christian. Or, well…

Chris.”

Nick held out his hand. “Nick.” He smiled warmly. “It’s good to meet you, Christian.”

Christian? He glanced at the heavens. Bet you think you’re clever, don’t you, big guy?

* * * *

Caleb began to shake as soon as the door was closed, and hugged himself tight, unable to hold

back the tears. He leaned against the door and choked on a sob, body curling over. The sensation of

Samuel’s touch, his kiss, lingered on his face, his lips.

You should’ve just told him—right here, right now—that you can’t see him anymore . Why

did you say he could come over later? How could he look Samuel in the eyes and tell him to go

away? Try to make him believe he didn’t want him in his life? The guy could see past all that bullshit.

It was like he could see straight into Caleb’s heart, his soul.

Samuel hadn’t bought his excuse of being sick. Yet he was. Sicker than he had ever been in his

life. After Brock had left last night, Caleb had vomited up the load of cum the man had insisted he

swallow. He’d been certain the attorney was going to fuck him as well, but the man had left after

shooting his wad in Caleb’s mouth. And as casually as if he hadn’t just had his cock stuffed down

Caleb’s throat, he’d set a date for them to go meet with Nick.

Just focus on Nick. This is for him. And you will damn well do whatever it takes to make

this right with him—even if you have nothing left when it’s over.

And what would he have left? Samuel would be gone…along with Caleb’s self-respect and

dignity. In the end, Brock Coulson’s words would ring true—Caleb would be nothing more than a

filthy little whore.

But Nick will be free, he will have his life back. And that is ALL that matters.

Chapter Four

Feels So Right

The chiming of the doorbell forced Max to abort his extended shower and rush from the

bathroom with just a quick towel wrapped around his waist. Water streamed from the tips of his hair

and dripped off his body as he opened the front door. Horatio stood on the others, and gave Max an

appreciative once over.

“Did I interrupt something?” Horatio asked casually. A smile teased the corner of his mouth

and Max’s knees quivered, as did the goods barely concealed beneath the towel. “If you

have…company…I can come back later.”

Max knew what he meant by company. “No.” he rubbed a hand over his wet face then shook

away the clinging drops of water. “No company.”

Before he knew it, Horatio’s fingers flicked at the hair by his right ear. “Still got some soap in

your hair.” He smiled. Standing a few inches taller than Max, the man gazed down at him, fingertips

lingering in his wet strands.

“I, uh….” Max cleared his throat and stepped back, rubbing his hand across the back of his

drenched neck. “I should rinse that out and…get dressed.”

“No need to get dressed on my account.” Horatio’s smile stretched to a smirk, and he winked.

“Right.” Max mumbled and suddenly found it hard to breathe. He motioned the man inside and

turned back down the hall. “Just make yourself at home. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

In the bathroom, he turned the shower on once more and shed the towel, dismayed to find his

member had grown since he’d left the shower just minutes before. He shook his head and went about

rinsing the remained of the shampoo from his hair. Just maintain control, buddy, he silently

instructed his penis. He isn’t for you.

That bit of reality dropped a ball of lead to the pit of his stomach. It seemed that ever since

Horatio’s involvement with Abel, the man had been coming around a lot more. It wasn’t so bad

before, just encountering him from time to time. Things had been bearable then because he wasn’t

being constantly reminded of what he’d lost and couldn’t get back. But all of the sudden, it seemed

Horatio was there every time he turned around. And things were getting harder—in more ways than

one. Max knew he had to be the one to stay strong, Horatio didn’t have it in him to fight this. He didn’t

want to fight it. Only out of respect for Max’s wishes did he restrain himself. But even then, the man

was weakening—as was Max.

He found Horatio, not in the kitchen, but in his bedroom, stretched out comfortably on the bed.

Shoes had been kicked off and his pin striped silk shirt was open, the tie undone and hanging loosely

to the side, revealing his well-developed chest and washboard abs. He smiled at Max as he tucked

his arms under his head. “You did tell me to make myself at home.”

“I did.” Max mumbled and went to the dresser. “But I didn’t tell you to move in and take up

residence.” He opened the top drawer and took out a clean pair of briefs, his back to the man. He

sucked in a deep breath as his cock hardened immensely beneath the towel with no adequate barrier

to shield the evidence of his arousal. He didn’t need Horatio aware of how fiercely turned on he was,

though he suspected the man knew quite well how he affected Max. “You want to give me some

privacy, so I can get dressed?”

“Afraid to get naked in front of me?” Horatio murmured with a surprising lack of humor to his

words. The guy was serious.

“Not afraid.” Max said quietly. “I just know a bad idea when it’s presented to me.”

Horatio went silent for a long moment and Max felt his eyes lingering on his back, moving up

and down his body. “We need to talk, Max.” There was a note to his voice that quickened Max’s

pulse and filled him with fear. It was that tone that warned Max the guy wanted to talk about things

they had agreed not to discuss, or even acknowledge.

“No.” Max whispered. “We don’t.”

The bed creaked slightly as Horatio shifted. “Yes. We do.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

The man went silent again and the bed springs moaned when he moved a little. Horatio

cleared his throat then spoke low, “Hey. Do you want to get together? Your place or mine, it doesn’t

matter. I just miss you so fucking bad I feel like I can’t breathe.”

Max’s heart slammed his ribs, then went into a frenzy. He turned quick to find Horatio holding

his cell phone—reading Max’s text. “How did you…”

“You sent it to me, Max.” Horatio closed his phone and set it aside. “I’m not so gullible as to

think you did so intentionally. Nevertheless…”

His throat tight, Max turned his back to him again. “It doesn’t mean anything.” He whispered.

“It was just…one of those moments that come and go.” Shit. He was sure he had dropped that

message into his draft folder. You wanted him to get it, you know you did. Last night’s little fantasy

was testament of that.

Horatio left the bed and Max closed his eyes, gut tightening. Just stay back. Don’t touch me .

Either Horatio’s telepathy was malfunctioning—or he just wasn’t listening—because his fingertips

touched the bare skin of Max’s back, causing him to shudder. “Horatio.” He said thickly. “Don’t.”

“Why?” The man’s warm lips touched his shoulder then rubbed softly up the curve of his neck

and into his hair. “Why should we deny ourselves?”

Tears began to sting Max’s eyes and he gripped the edge of the bureau, his cock swelling,

hardening, pulsing with anticipation. “You know why.” He rasped, words catching, breaking.

Horatio made no reply as his fingertips grazed down Max’s back then squeezed his waist. His

exposed chest touched Max’s skin as he moved closer, his crotch solid against Max’s ass. His cheeks

tensed and flexed when the man pushed up to him more snugly. “Life’s too short to throw something

like this away.” He murmured and let his lips caress back down the side of Max’s neck, dropping

warm, sensual kisses all across his skin. Even when he was young, the man had been a master at

seduction. “For any reason.”

“Horatio…stop.” Max could hear the resolve in his voice fading out as Horatio continued to

lightly kiss his neck then tug his earlobe gently with his strong lips. His arms slid around Max’s waist

and tightened, locking him into his embrace. He didn’t feel the man tug the towel loose, but was

simply aware of it dropping to the floor at his feet.

“Make love to me, Max.” The plea—the need—in Horatio’s voice squeezed Max’s heart and

made him want to grant the man every wish he’d ever wished for. The emotional pain in Horatio

resonated out through his touch, melding with his kisses. He was dying inside. Dying the same slow,

agonizing death as Max. “Please, Max. Just this once…don’t fight me.”

The heat of Horatio’s body burned into Max, his kisses fogging his mind, making it difficult to

determine right from wrong…or to even care. He turned slowly in the man’s arms, hands trembling as

he peeled Horatio’s shirt off his shoulders. Horatio loosened his arms and let the garment slide down

his arms and flutter to the carpet, then his hands were on Max’s bare hips, guiding him towards the

bed…and a heaven that, for so long, Max had only allowed himself to dream of.

* * * *

Whether or not he’d expected Max to grant him his one desire wasn’t entirely clear to

Horatio. And it didn’t matter. All that did matter was the warmth of Max’s body beneath him as they

sank down on the bed together. For this one moment in time, Max was letting go of reality and

embracing the fantasy. Like Max, Horatio knew he shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be seducing the man.

But though he had resisted last night…the desires had simmered until morning then began to boil over.

Max parted his legs and lifted his hips, pushing his erection forcefully against Horatio’s

crotch. He groaned and kissed him, hard, arms wrapping around his freshly showered body now

developing a slight sheen of sweat and heat to his skin. My god, baby, you feel so good in my arms.

Can’t you feel how right this is? That this is where you belong?

Barely aware of his movements, Horatio shed his pants, applied saliva to his erect member,

then pushed inside his lover. Max clung to him in desperation, crying out in pleasure as he welcomed

Horatio’s tender invasion.

“Yes….” Max choked, fingers gouging into Horatio’s back and raking lower to grip his tense

ass cheeks, pulling him in deeper. “Please…yes…oh god, baby…I want you so bad.” Tears formed at

the corners of Max’s eyes and began to seep down his temples as he accepted what he’d been trying

so hard to deny for so long.

Horatio grunted and shoved in the last remaining inch of his hard cock, causing Max to gasp

sharply. He just held him for a moment, unmoving, as the man’s tight inner sleeve squeezed and flexed

against his stiff shaft. Horatio trembled and touched his lips to Max’s mouth, breath unsteady, shaky.

“I love you, Max. I can’t stop. I won’t.”

Rubbing his hands up his back, Max kissed him. He didn’t confess his love for Horatio, and

he wouldn’t, though it was there in every look, every touch, kiss. Horatio didn’t need to hear the

words to know he held the man’s heart so tight and secure. He slid his fingers through Max’s hair and

deepened their kiss as his hips shifted and moved, gliding his cock back and forth through the man’s

velvet caverns.

Max moaned and pulled out of the kiss, burying his face in Horatio’s shoulder, clinging to him

more tightly, breath quick, uneven. “Yes.” He shuddered and began to fuck him back with urgency and

desperation. “Fuck me, baby…don’t stop….”

A storm of emotions raged through Horatio, almost two decades of repressed hunger and want

of this man suddenly set free. There was no controlling the passion as it ran wild through their bodies

and hearts. A strangled cry wrenched from Max and he pushed Horatio over onto his back and

straddled him, riding him hard, fingers gripping, clawing his chest as he shoved himself down on his

cock again and again.

Horatio arched, hips thrusting, driving himself into his lover. He sat forward and wrapped his

arms around Max, squeezing him tight, kissing his eager mouth as they fucked each other without

reservation.

“Fuck, Max….” Horatio panted into his mouth, breath erratic as he pushed himself deep and

hard into Max’s body over and over, desperate for release. “ Oh fuck, baby…I’m gonna come.” He

reached down between them and grabbed Max’s cock, stroking him with urgency, the man’s hard

muscle pulsing in his fist and dripping cum juice.

Max squeezed his arms around his neck, fucking both his fist and his cock. His head dropped

back and he yelled out loud, choking on a cry as his shaft swelled in Horatio’s hand. He stroked him

faster, harder until the man’s body locked up and convulsed with a powerful orgasm, shooting tendrils

of cum up on both their stomachs and chests.

“Fuck!” Horatio flipped them back down on the bed and fucked Max hard against the sheets,

shaking the bed, then screaming out when his balls burst and he came inside the man. He held him

tight in his arms, unable to stop as the orgasm continued to course through him and his cum well

seemed bottomless as he unloaded more and more into the guy.

Tears wet Max’s face and he grabbed at Horatio’s head, dragging him into a desperate kiss as

Horatio’s body slowly began to relax, though he continued to slowly stroke inside Max’s warm cave.

“I love you, Max.” Horatio panted hard and kissed Max’s neck, his face then his mouth again.

“You can’t tell me this doesn’t feel right.”

Max just looked at him, tears rising and draining out, his eyes shouting out what his lips didn’t

dare to so much as utter in a whisper.

Chapter Five

Broken Pieces

A vacuum surrounded the boy when he entered the club, sucking away all traces of life.

Across the room, Dane could still detect the emptiness and despair that resonated out of Caleb. As

soon as they had come back to the club after returning from their trip to North Carolina, he had seen

Caleb talking to the man that Max had deemed a predator, and whom he didn’t trust. And Caleb’s

exchange with him hadn’t had the feel of a typical club encounter between dancer and customer. They

had been actually discussing something.

“I’ve seen that look before.”

Dane jumped and turned when Cole took a stool next to him. “Hey.” Dane smiled. “About

time you showed your face. I was beginning to think you’d abandoned us.”

Chuckling, Cole shook his head. “Nah. I wouldn’t do that. I know you all would cry if I left.”

“Well there’s plenty of customers who would.” Dane assured.

Cole nodded towards Caleb. “So that’s our new boy, huh?” His lips tightened as he gazed at

the young man intently. “He has that look about him…not a good thing. Seen it on Abel’s face way too

much.” He shook his head slowly and murmured, “I’m telling you right now, there’s something fucked

up in that boy’s life.”

Dane again considered it might have to do with Caleb’s brother. Or possibly Samuel?

“Are you well acquainted with him?” Cole asked.

“So-so.” Dane shrugged. “I try to be his friend, but he’s a tough one to get close to. I don’t

know if he just doesn’t trust people…or he’s just a loner.” You got pretty damn close to him in the

motel room. That recollection still twisted Dane into knots—and then add to it what Caleb had told

him when he’d exited the car.

It would have been a grade A, number one mistake if he’d given in to his desires and slept

with Caleb, knowing full well where and with whom the boy’s heart resided—but he couldn’t keep

from fantasizing about just how it would have been to get that intimate with the kid. What was Caleb

like when he let go and stopped pushing someone away? Ask Samuel. You know—his boyfriend! Quit

thinking about what doesn’t belong to you.

“You still here?” Cole chuckled low, snapping his fingers in front of Dane’s face.

He blinked. “Uh, yeah.” He smiled and cleared his throat, still watching Caleb as he spoke to

another boy in passing.

“Maybe you should talk to him.” Cole suggested. “Just because they try to push you away…

that doesn’t necessarily mean they want you to go. More often than not, it’s when they’re shoving the

hardest is when they need you the most.”

Dane nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind, Dr. Phil.” He looked at Cole and smirked.

“Smart ass.” He shook his head and grinned. “You’re starting to get as cocky as Gabe.”

Dane chuckled. “So tell me…how serious is this thing with Gabe?” he cocked an eyebrow.

“Is it tie-the-knot serious?”

“That could be jumping the gun a bit.” Cole smiled, then shrugged. “Not that the possibility

hasn’t crossed my mind. But even so….” He shrugged again.

“I thought you two were just….”

“Fuck friends?”

“Yeah.” Dane laughed lightly. “Something like that.”

“So did I.” Cole admitted. “But, well…I guess there was more going on than either of us

realized.”

Dane grinned, “Well you make a real cute couple.”

“Fuck.” Cole laughed and socked his arm. “You make us sound like a couple fruits skipping

around in rainbow tutus.”

“Well that would make for an interesting stage show.” Dane grinned, then dodged another

swipe of Cole’s fist. He slid off his stool. “It’s getting dangerous sitting here. I think it would be safer

to go talk to Caleb.” His face pinched. “Maybe.” He chuckled.

* * * *

What the hell did you do? After all these years keeping things in check—how could you just

give in like that?

“I’m not sorry.” Horatio turned onto his side and rubbed his hand over Max’s stomach. He

kissed his chest then his neck. “I’ll never be sorry. And I’ll never stop wanting this—wanting you—

every day of my life.”

Max stared at the bedroom ceiling. If he could rewind and undo this…would he? It wasn’t a

question he could answer with clarity while Horatio’s mouth was on his neck, working up to his ear,

the man’s heated, damp body pressing against his own.

He closed his eyes and said the only thing he could say without getting himself in deeper with

Horatio. “I should get down to the club.”

“The boys can take care of themselves.” Horatio murmured, his warm, wet tongue teasing

Max’s earlobe. “Just stay with me for a while…okay?”

A hard sigh pushed out of him and he swallowed tightly. “Horatio….”

“Don’t.” The man’s mouth covered his in a consuming kiss that he couldn’t resist. “Don’t talk

about later. Just be with me, right here, right now. Let later take care of itself.”

Max looked at him. “We agreed a long time ago we wouldn’t let this happen.”

“No.” Horatio shook his head and slid his fingertips through Max’s hair. “You decided, and I

wasn’t given a deciding vote in the matter.”

Turning his gaze back to the ceiling, Max whispered, “I was right to make that choice.” That’s

what he’d been telling himself for the last two decades anyway, but it hadn’t felt right when he made

it…and it still didn’t. Not in his heart. But he couldn’t trust his heart in this matter. He had to rely on

his head.

“You remember our first kiss?” Horatio smiled and nuzzled his ear, laughing low. “I think we

were both freaked out there for a moment. We didn’t even realize we were gay until that instant. But,

god, the second your lips touched mine….” He groaned deep. “I knew then…and I knew it was

exactly what I wanted to be—as long as it meant I could keep kissing you.” He drew Max into his

arms and kissed him. “It was so crazy. One minute you were just my best friend, and the next…you

were everything in the world to me.” He kissed him again and whispered, “And you still are, Max.”

“Why do you do that?” Max’s throat tightened and ached at the memory of when they first

realized they were in love, and struggled to block it out.

“Do what?”

“Think about those things?” His voice thickened with emotion. “You should try to forget.”

Horatio rubbed his lips across Max’s cheek. “I think about them because they remind me of

the love we used to share. I don’t want to forget about it. Why do you want to?”

Max ducked his head as tears burned. “Because it hurts too much to remember…when it’s

something that’s…lost forever.”

“Forever?” Horatio murmured. “Look where we are, Max…the amazing love we just made.”

He touched his lips to Max’s hair and whispered, “Baby, nothing’s lost. It’s been with us all along.

We just weren’t admitting it.” he smiled and kissed his head. “Well, you weren’t admitting it.”

And I can’t start now. Max twisted away from Horatio, turning his back to him. “This can’t

happen again.”

The man’s arms went around him and he pressed up close to his body, kissing his shoulder.

“Then let’s make the most of this moment…and not be in a rush to end it too soon.”

* * * *

Caleb entered the dressing room with no clue how he was going to function. How did he go

out there and flirt with men who were merely carbon copies of Brock Coulson? Men who were as

eager to get their cock in him and use him for their own sick pleasures as Coulson was. He didn’t

want to be here, didn’t want their filthy hands on him, fantasizing about his face between their legs,

sucking them off.

The sudden recollection of last night with Brock caused Caleb’s stomach to lurch a bit. He

swallowed hard and gripped the edge of the narrow counter then stared at his reflection. The scent of

Coulson’s genitals filled his nostrils again, the taste of his cock, his cum, tainting his tongue once

more. He gritted his teeth against the strong wave of nausea that hit him, then he choked on a sob,

clenched his fist and cocked his arm, ready to smash his image.

“Easy now.” Dane’s sudden presence halted his fist mid-swing. “That won’t solve anything.”

Caleb lowered his hand but didn’t turn around, his throat working against his emotions. “Just

leave me alone.” He whispered tightly.

“In case you didn’t get the memo.” Dane murmured. “I am your friend, Caleb.” He stepped

into the room. “What’s wrong?”

An ache rushed up into his head as his jaw clenched hard. “Nothing.” He choked on a sudden

sob then cleared his throat quick. “Just please…go away.”

“Caleb….”

“Just go!” Caleb turned sharply, face pinched with anger. Tears filled his eyes. “Just leave me

the fuck alone!” He cried and stepped forward, shoving Dane back. “We’re not friends! I don’t want

any fucking friends! I don’t want anyone!”

Dane grabbed his wrists. “Well too bad.” He spoke with force. “’Cause you got me whether

you want me or not. Now calm down, and tell me what the hell is wrong.”

He released his hold when Caleb took a step back and turned away from him. “I can’t…talk

about it.” he said thickly, bitterly. “There’s nothing you could do about it anyway.”

“Maybe not.” Dane murmured. “But sometimes it still helps to talk about it.”

“It won’t.” Caleb’s eyes and nose burned as tears formed.

Dane moved up close and gripped his shoulders gently. “Whatever it is, Caleb.” He pressed

his lips to the back of his head. “I’m here for you.” The boy shook his head slowly but sagged a little

back against Dane’s chest, a sense of despair wafting off him. “Is it Samuel?” he whispered against

his hair. “Did something happen between the two of you?”

A shudder rushed through Caleb and he ducked his head. Dane could feel the strain in his

body as he struggled to resist the sobs fighting to take over. He wrapped his arms around him and

hugged him tight. Caleb broke and turned into his embrace, clinging to him, crying.

“Hey.” Dane murmured and kissed his hair again, rubbing his back. “It’s going to be okay.

You’ll see.”

Caleb just held onto him tighter, the sobs rushing up his throat and falling out broken onto

Dane’s shoulder.

Chapter Six

Not For Keeps

Once the boy seemed secure in the belief that Nick wasn’t a predator, he relaxed a little,

though he looked a little freaked out to be in the joint. He didn’t have that air of a seasoned inmate—

too much innocence in his eyes—and Nick suspected this was his first time in. Nick had been about

his age, maybe a tad older, when he’d caught his sentence. He understood that inner terror of being

thrown in a cage with a bunch of brutal, savage animals with no protection.

Nick looked the boy over discreetly. He was a beautiful sight, almost delicate in some ways

though still plenty of masculinity to him. But his appearance alone made him a prime target in a place

like this. How long until what was left of his innocence was shredded? Nick’s heart ached at the

thought of a brutal hand touching such a lovely creature.

“So what were you wrongfully accused of?” Christian sat down in the chair by the small desk.

His blue eyes gazed at Nick, causing his heart to do quick little flip-flops in his chest.

“Excuse me?” Nick’s brow pinched.

The boy shrugged, then the most breath taking little smile crept across his lips. “I was

wrongfully accused of kicking a cop in the nuts, threatening him with his own gun and stealing his

car.”

Nick stared at him a moment, then caught the intended humor and laughed. “Well that’s a hell

of a false charge there.”

The kid looked at him expectantly.

“I, uh…” Nick cleared his throat and leaned on his knees, staring at the floor. “I was…

wrongfully accused of reckless endangerment that led to…” he swallowed hard. “…to the death of a

child.” His chest tightened as his eyes stung.

Christian glanced away. “I’m sorry.” He murmured. “I mean…I’m sorry I asked…it’s none of

my business.”

“It’s okay.” Nick said quietly. “It’s just something I have to learn to live with.” He made it

sound so matter-of-fact, but living with it was a hell of a lot easier said than done. Maybe in the full

reality of the event, he hadn’t been the one at fault, but he still lived with the guilt of it every second

of every day. And regardless of who was to blame—a little girl was still dead. And passing the buck

wasn't going to bring her back.

* * * *

“Where are you going?” Horatio’s breath was quick, unsteady, his heart still pounding from

their most recent activities. Max sat on the edge of the bed, skin wet and slick, droplets of sweat

trickling down the furrow of muscle along his spine. Scooting over close, Horatio touched his lips to

the depression at the small of his back and sucked at his damp skin. Max tensed, breath catching.

“I need to shower…then get to the club.” Max said thickly and dropped his head down,

running his fingers slowly through his damp hair.

“Wouldn’t you rather just stay in bed all day?” Horatio smiled against the base of his spine

then dragged his lips and tongue up the center of his back and sucked sensually on the nape of Max’s

neck as he pressed his body closer to the man. “We could, you know?” he whispered, a note of

hopefulness in his soft words.

Max’s breath quickened and Horatio could feel the man wanting to accept the proposed idea,

but instead he shook his head slowly. “You have to go, Horatio.” Emotion squeezed his voice. “You

can’t be here…like this.” His breath pushed out with more force. “This shouldn’t have happened. We

both know it.”

“No.” Horatio kissed his shoulder. “I don’t know that. I don’t believe it.” he rubbed his hands

down Max’s strong, developed arms. “The way you held me, Max…and just let go…I know you

wanted this as much as I did.” Just say it. Admit it.

Max rested his head in his hands. “It doesn’t matter what I want.” He whispered. “Or what

you want. Some things just…can’t be, Horatio.”

Sliding off the bed, Horatio knelt between Max’s legs, rubbing his bare thighs. He pushed

himself against the man and kissed his lips. “I think we can have whatever we want.” He murmured.

“If we want it bad enough.”

Max closed his eyes and swallowed hard as Horatio kissed his throat and down his chest. His

hand wrapped around the guy’s thick member and groaned low when it hardened against his palm. He

slowly pushed Max down on his back then dropped kisses along his hard stomach as he slowly

stroked his fist up and down the man’s growing shaft.

He was stalling, unwilling to let Max get out of his reach. Once they separated, and reality set

back in…Max would be lost to him again. And for how long this time? The rest of their lives?

No. I won’t let that happen. Even if I have to seduce you into my arms every time, baby—I

won’t lose you like that again.

He kissed the shaven skin around the base of Max’s cock then traced the tip of his tongue

around the thick muscle. Max’s hips flinched, his member twitching, a low moan squeezing out of

him. Horatio licked slowly up the shaft then wrapped his lips around the firm head.

“Fuck.” Max gasped and clawed the blankets, lifting his hips, urging Horatio to take more of

him.

Relaxing his throat, Horatio let him push in deeper and just held him with his mouth as the

man began to gently slide his cock in and out between his lips. He moaned and sucked Max’s

swelling erection as it pushed into his throat and out again, over and over, Max’s breath sharpening as

the pace of his thrusts increased. His fingers squeezed the blankets, his face pinched, twisting with

sweet ecstasy as he began to pant and puff, his ass lifting away from the bed as he fucked Horatio’s

mouth with more urgency.

“Uuhh!” Max shoved his head hard down against the mattress, every muscle in his body

straining, tightening, the cords in his neck popping as his jaw clenched. “God! Fuuuck!” he

swallowed hard, catching a broken breath then cried out as drove his cock in deeper.

Horatio gripped the man’s sac and tugged firmly, pulling it away from his body. He still

remembered how it drove Max wild when he was younger, and still did as the man released a

strangled wail and fucked him harder. His balls were firm, and tightened as his orgasm swelled.

Horatio pulled off him and grabbed his sac in his mouth, sucking hungrily as he stroked Max’s cock

with his fist.

“Fuck! Yes!” Max choked and slammed his dick through Horatio’s hand. “Oh fuck! Fuck! I’m

gonna come!”

Groaning, loving those words so much, Horatio took his cock in his mouth again and stroked

him fast and urgent, sucking hard. Max grabbed his head and his body arched fiercely as he yelled

loud and sharp and shot his load down Horatio’s throat. He sucked him until there was nothing left

and the man began to soften, then he pulled off him slowly and kissed all over his member before

moving up over his body and lying down against him.

“I know you don’t want to let go, Max.” Horatio whispered and kissed his mouth softly. “We

don’t have to.” When Max started to speak, Horatio kissed him again. “We don’t.”

Anguish shadowed Max’s eyes. “We do, Horatio.”

His heart crushing in on itself, Horatio buried his face in Max’s neck and shuddered,

wrapping the man tight in his arms. Max held him, his lips touching his shoulder softly, emotion

choking him as he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

* * * *

The drive back to Caleb’s apartment turned into a torturous journey. Samuel had a bad feeling

about what might happen once he was there. Caleb’s recent actions had his stomach twisted into knots

and his heart in a state of panic. It was that feel of an approaching storm before the black clouds even

appeared in the sky.

His legs were lead weights as he climbed the single flight of stairs to the second floor of the

apartment building, his heart as heavy in his chest. Don’t jump to conclusions. Maybe he really was

just feeling sick. Think positive. You know he cares about you. Why would he just dump you?

There wasn’t a lot of comfort in those thoughts, but a little, and he would accept it.

Hesitation paused his hand when he started to knock. That deep dread gripped him again and

no amount of positive thinking was helping. Something was wrong with Caleb, there was no denying

it.

He sighed hard and knocked lightly. Again, there was a notable hesitation from the other side

of the door before it was opened. Caleb barely looked at him before stepping back and allowing him

to enter.

“Are you feeling any better?” Samuel asked with concern as Caleb closed the door.

“Not really.” Caleb mumbled.

The guy was dressed this time, rather than sporting his pajama pants. “You didn’t go to work,

did you?”

Caleb shrugged and nodded. “I can’t afford to miss work.”

“Even so, if you were sick—”

“Look.” Caleb’s voice turned sharp with a suddenness that caught Samuel off guard. “You

don’t understand, all right? Out here in the real world people actually have to work for a fucking

living. Not everything is handed to us on a silver platter.” He turned away, throat working with

emotion.

Sighing, Samuel nodded slowly, “Well…I guess my dad isn’t the only one who thinks I’m just

a free loading, lazy ass motherfucker.”

“I didn’t….” Caleb choked on a shuddered breath. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.”

Samuel approached him and gripped his shoulders, kissing the back of his head. “I know you

didn’t, baby.” He murmured. “No offense taken.”

“I just meant…I don’t have any back up.” Caleb whispered. “Whatever I…secure with my

own hands is it. Sometimes…a person has to just do what they have to do…regardless how they

feel.”

A frown tightened Samuel’s brow as the guy’s words seemed to carry a lot of weight for the

subject they were on. “Are we still talking about taking a sick day off work…or something else?”

Caleb shook his head but didn’t reply. Samuel slid his arms around him and nuzzled his ear. “Caleb…

you can talk to me, baby. I know something is bothering you. Is your brother okay? You never told me

how your visit went.”

Caleb trembled. “He’s fine.” He whispered, but Samuel wasn’t sure he believed the sincerity

of those words.

“What does your brother do for a living?” Samuel asked quietly. “You haven’t said anything

about him.”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” Caleb said thickly.

“Okay.” Samuel nodded and kissed his hair again. “What do you want to talk about? Because I

know there is something on your mind.”

Caleb pulled out of his arms and moved away a few steps. “Samuel….” He ducked his head

as his arms slid around his waist. “I can’t…do this right now.”

The earlier panic surged through Samuel’s heart. “Do what?”

Caleb sniffed and cleared his throat, betraying his emotions. “This.” He whispered. “Us.”

“What are you talking about, Caleb?” Desperation permeated Samuel’s voice as he moved

close and gripped Caleb’s shoulder again, turning him around. “I don’t understand. What do you

mean, you can’t do this right now? What’s wrong with this? With us?”

Avoiding his eyes, Caleb shook his head. “I just….” his lips tightened, a sheen of tears

glossing his eyes. “I don’t want it.”

Samuel’s heart knotted in his chest. “I don’t believe you.” He trembled.

“I can’t be with you.” Caleb whispered and tried to turn away but Samuel gripped his

shoulders tighter.

“Why?” Samuel choked. “Why can’t you be with me, Caleb?”

“I just can’t!” Caleb jerked away from him, jaw clenched, eyes shimmering, filled with pain.

“You just…you have to leave.”

Raking his hand through his hair, Samuel shook his head. “No.” he said tightly, thickly. “Not

until you give me a fucking reason.”

“Because I don’t love you!” Caleb cried, tears spilling over. “I don’t want you! Just leave!”

Samuel stepped back unsteadily, Caleb’s words cutting through his heart, laying it to waste.

The young man stared at him, tears streaming, eyes hard but resonating an anguish that punched

Samuel square in his bruised and broken heart. “You’re lying, Caleb.” He choked, shaking his head.

“I don’t believe you. I don’t believe….” His throat worked, tears rising. “I won’t just let go.”

Caleb turned his back to him, crying softly, “Please just leave, Samuel.”

His back bumped against the door before he realized he was still backing up. “This isn’t

over.” Samuel trembled. “It isn’t.”

Chapter Seven

Need to Know

Fuck! Fuck!

He wanted to punch, kick, rip apart anything and everything within reach as he heard the door

click closed behind Samuel. God dammit! Dammit! His hands shoved into his hair, sobs suddenly

rushing up his throat. “Samuel…” He cried and ran to the door, but froze when his hand closed

around the cool knob.

Let him go! You have to let him go! You have to—for Nick! You owe it to Nick!

Caleb began to shake. He ran to his bedroom and slammed the door, then turned and punched

it hard. “Fuck!” he screamed then sagged against the door, crying, fists still clenched and smacking

the wood. “Dammit.” He choked, his face pinching hard. “God dammit!” Brock’s face rose behind

his eyes and rage boiled his blood. “Motherfucker! I hate you!” He slid to the floor, huddled against

the door, as his arms curled up over his head. “God, please…please…let there be some other way…

please don’t make me do this.”

He sat pressed against the door, head in his arms, until the hum of his cell phone drew him

out. He lifted his head, hands shaking as he wiped at his face. Samuel. He crawled to his feet and

went quickly to the bed, grabbing his phone off the nightstand. It wasn’t Samuel.

“Hello.” He said thickly, answering the call, his stomach churning.

“Monday.” Brock said from the other end. “We’ll fly down and meet with your brother. Dress

nice. As far as anyone will know, you’re my client. And while we’re in public, you’re to give no

indication otherwise. Do you understand?”

What did you think I was going to do, asshole—try to hold your hand? Steal a kiss?

“Yes.” Caleb whispered, his throat aching.

“Do you own a suit?”

“No.” Caleb admitted.

“Figured as much.” Brock muttered, then added, “I’ll have one sent to your place. Wear it.”

“Whatever you want.” Caleb said quietly, wishing desperately he could tell the man to fuck

off, then kill the call.

“Whatever I want is fucking right.” Brock said tightly. “Plan to spend the night before we fly

back. And after we meet with your brother, you’re going to damn well live up to your part of this

deal.”

Caleb stared blankly at the floor. “Okay.” He whispered dully.

“Be at the airport by seven.” Brock told him. “I’ll be waiting for you at gate nine. I’ll have

your ticket ready.”

“All right.”

“We’ll go over the details of your brother’s case during the flight.” He said. “My firm will

secure all the court documents from his trial and should have them for me by the time we return.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t be late to airport.” He said stiffly, then as if as an afterthought, “Bring along a couple

pair of g-strings from the club. My favorite color is red.”

Then the call was over. The line dead. Caleb lowered the phone and slowly closed it, laying

it on the night stand. God, please. Let there be some other way.

Caleb stared blankly at the cell phone. “Sorry, God.” He murmured as emptiness seeped

through him. “I mistook you for someone who gave a fuck.”

* * * *

There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell he would be sleeping at all tonight. Samuel left the

house and got in his car. He didn’t know where he was going, but staying still, motionless, wasn’t an

option. Caleb’s words still screamed inside his head—I don’t love you! I don’t want you!

He had told Caleb he didn’t believe him, but what if it were true? He’d practically strong-

armed him into being his boyfriend. The guy had shown some level of resistance and standoffishness

right from the start. Sure, he’d given in to the sex…but what if that was really all he’d wanted out of

it?

“No.” he whispered tightly, squeezing the steering wheel. “You know that isn’t true.” There

had been no mistaking the thunderbolt when their eyes had met for the first time. This was the real

thing. How could he let Caleb slip through his fingers?

Every memory he had made with Caleb played through his head in excruciating detail; the soft

caresses, warm kisses, the love-making, and passion. Samuel swallowed hard, his throat working,

eyes burning. He’d told Caleb it made him crazy to be away from him for just a few hours—what the

hell was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t be with him at all?

“Fuck.” He choked and shoved his hands against the steering wheel, frustration and hurt

gripping his entire body. “Fuck!”

How he ended up downtown, he wasn’t really sure, but he found himself slowing the car when

he approached a gay strip club. Maybe that’s what I need. A little distraction . Anything was better

than sitting at home or even driving around thinking about Caleb. The pain was escalating and he

needed a real distraction before his heart just came apart inside him.

He glanced at the emblem of the male exotic dancer with fiery wings embedded in the outer

doors of the establishment. The Phoenix Club. He paid the entrance fee and went inside. The loud

music instantly tested the strength of his eardrums. He found a booth across from the stage and

watched the young dancer do things with his body that could shift the straightest man into fag mode.

A hot young waiter approached his table wearing tight black pants, a black bowtie—and

nothing else—and flirted with Samuel as he took his drink order. Samuel played his part and flirted

back, but felt no real attraction to the guy—though his dick begged to differ. Even so, the emptiness

remained, causing a slight nausea in the pit of his stomach. Everywhere he looked, he saw Caleb’s

face on every sexy young man in the place—not a one of which could hold a candle to Caleb when it

came to sexiness and straight up cock hardening.

He sighed and leaned his elbow on the table, resting his mouth against his hand as his gaze

flitted absently around the club. Even with the noise and the abundance of hot, nearly naked boys, his

thoughts refused to shift from Caleb. Fuck, baby, what’s wrong? Why did you do this? I can’t handle

this.

As his vision began to blur, his eyes suddenly caught and stuck on a man at the far side of the

club; black, neatly cropped hair and the body of a god. But it wasn’t his physical perfection that

caught Samuel’s attention—but his familiar face. Dane.

Samuel’s heart thumped harder, faster as he watched the man talking casually to a customer,

lightly flirting. When the cute waiter returned with his drink, Samuel nodded across the room. “Is

he…available?”

The young man turned and looked around. “Who?”

“The guy over there, near the bar.” Samuel said. “Black hair, killer body. In the black

sleeveless tank?”

The waiter searched in the direction Samuel was indicating, then smiled. “Dane.” He nodded

and looked at Samuel. “Yes.” He smiled wryly and cocked a sexy eyebrow. “Looking for some

private time with him?”

Samuel’s breath rushed through his nostrils. “Yes.” He murmured, then produced a wad of

bills. “Where’s the private booths?”

The waiter nodded towards the backside of the club. “Over there.”

Samuel scooted out of the booth and pressed the bills into the young man’s hand. “Give this to

him and tell him to meet me in the first booth.” He started to walk away then paused. “Go ahead and

keep a couple of those bills for yourself.” He winked and smiled. “For just being so damn cute.”

The waiter grinned. “Why thank you, kind sir.”

Nodding, Samuel made a wide arc around Dane to avoid detection and slipped into the first

booth. He paced nervously in the small area then finally sat down in the leather chair, resting on the

edge, leaning on his knees. His heels tapped anxiously against the floor as he chewed his thumbnail

and stared blankly at the doorway, covered with a filmy curtain.

When the man stepped inside, he cast Samuel a mere fleeting glance as he turned and closed

the curtain. His tight pants hugged his ass, revealing every little flex of the man’s cheeks with each

movement. His shirt clung to his torso, accentuating his beautifully developed upper body. This was

the man Caleb had spent an away trip with? At the apartment, when Samuel had first met him, the guy

had been wearing regular everyday clothes. Even then, he could tell how hot the man was—but in

these clothes? Fuck.

“So.” Dane turned. “Let’s get to know each other—” His words froze as he stared at Samuel.

Samuel raised a slow eyebrow. “So this is where you work?” he spoke low, taut. “This is

where Caleb works?”

The man’s brow pinched tight. “What’re you…doing here? Why did you….” He indicated the

wad of bills in his hand.

Standing slowly, throat squeezing, Samuel said thickly, “He broke up with me tonight. I guess

I just needed a distraction from the fucking pain.” His lips tightened as he swung his arm around in a

gesturing motion. “Is this why he broke it off? Because he thought I couldn’t handle what he did?”

Licking his lips slowly, Dane shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He murmured.

“Then why?” Samuel choked then rubbed a hand over his mouth, swallowing hard. “What’s

going on with him? Do you know?”

“I don’t.” Dane said low. “I’m not exactly on his list of people he talks to about private

matters.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure he even has a list, and if so, it probably consists of his

brother’s name and no one else’s.”

Samuel frowned. “You drove him to see his brother. Did…everything go okay?”

“What has he told you about his brother?” Dane murmured.

“Nothing.” Samuel admitted. “Just that he visits him once a month.”

Dane rubbed his chin thoughtfully then cleared his throat. “Okay. I’m going to tell you this, but

only because I see how much you care for him.” He held up a finger. “But you didn’t hear this from

me.” Samuel nodded as Dane’s lips tightened. “Caleb’s brother…is in prison. On a life sentence.”

“What?” Samuel breathed. He shook his head. “Why? What did he….”

“I don’t know the fine details.” He said. “But a child was killed in an accident of some kind

and….” His lips pressed tighter, hurt darkening his eyes. “And Caleb blames himself—for the

accident and for his brother being in prison.” He looked at Samuel and tears glazed. “It’s tearing him

up inside.”

No wonder the guy didn’t want to talk about his brother. Samuel shook his head slowly. “Do

you think…that has anything to do with why he’s suddenly pushing me away?”

“I don’t know.” Dane shrugged. “Maybe. But I think there’s something more going on with

him. But he won’t talk about it.”

Samuel chewed his thumbnail again, gaze distant, troubled. “Thanks.” He murmured then

looked at Dane. “Thank you for telling me.”

“I only told you because I could see how much Caleb cared about you.” Dane said. “And if

he’s pushing you away, then it’s because he feels he has to. For whatever reason. But I saw the way

he looked at you.” He shook his head. “And that was the look of a boy in love, if I ever saw it.”

The man’s words afforded Samuel some relief, and helped strengthen his belief that the things

that Caleb had said to him earlier weren’t true. He does love you. He does want you.

Samuel stepped towards the curtain. “If you…find out anything more.” He licked his lips and

looked at the man, feeling the ache in his own eyes. “Please let me know. I mean, if you feel you can. I

don’t expect you to betray Caleb’s confidence…if he chooses to confide in you.”

“I’ll always do what I feel is in Caleb’s best interest.” Dane murmured. “And right now, I

think that’s you.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey.” Dane stopped him when started to step through the curtain. He held out the money.

“This belongs to you.”

Samuel shook his head and shrugged. “Keep it. I got what I came for.”

Chapter Eight

Fighting to Let You Go

The weekend passed in a haze, of which Caleb remembered about as much of as if he’d been

on a drunken binge. He went to work, went through the motions, performed privately for the

customers who paid out the extra cash—and was vaguely aware of having been on stage one of the

nights. His mind had pretty much closed down after his phone call with Brock, and he’d been running

solely on autopilot.

What he did remember—was that he received no texts or calls from Samuel over the course of

the weekend. Had the guy taken him at his word? He’d told Caleb he didn’t believe him when he’d

said he didn’t love him or want him…but had he started to believe it? From the instant he’d met

Samuel, the man had been an unstoppable force in his life. Taking no for an answer didn’t seem to be

within his capabilities.

Yet, all of the sudden, it seemed he’d stopped fighting for what he wanted. Or maybe he just

don’t want it anymore . Was Samuel the type to only go after something until it became too difficult,

then simply moved on to his next conquest? He hadn’t known the guy long enough to really, fully know

what he was about.

That’s bullshit. You knew him right from the start. And you know he wouldn’t just stop

coming after you so abruptly.

So where was he?

It was five-thirty Monday morning and Caleb was already dressed in the suit Brock had sent

over, but it was a little early yet to head to the airport. Last night, he’d done as Brock had instructed

and grabbed a shimmery, red g-string from the club along with a pair of skimpy red shorts that only

concealed half his ass when pulled on. The two articles had been stuffed into the small overnight bag

sitting on his bed. His mind was still numb and he wanted to keep it that way. Maybe it would remain

unthinking, unfeeling when he and Brock were alone in the hotel room after their meeting with Nick.

Maybe afterwards he wouldn’t even remember being fucked by the man.

The sudden knock at his front door made him jump. Who the hell would be knocking on his

door at five-thirty in the morning? No one even knew where he lived except Brock, Dane, and….

His hand hesitated when he gripped the door knob. He took a deep breath and opened the

door.

“We need to talk.” Samuel entered without an invitation, pushing through the partially open

door before Caleb had a chance to deflect him. Once inside, he looked Caleb over. “That’s some

high-brow wear for five-thirty in the morning. Going somewhere.”

Caleb just stared at him, wondering if he were dreaming, hallucinating, something. But the

man’s presence was quite flesh and blood. “Yes.” He whispered but didn’t offer details.

“Another trip?”

Caleb nodded slowly. His heart had ached for some attention from Samuel, but now that he

was right here, he sensed the danger of being alone with the guy. He was barely holding it together

and all he wanted was to be in Samuel’s arms, longed for his love to somehow make everything all

right and rescue him from the villain. But this was no fairytale or superhero saga. It was real life…

and there were no white knights or superheroes to come along and right the wrong.

“Visiting your brother again?” Samuel asked.

“Yes.” Caleb released the breath he forgot he was holding. “I don’t have much time. I have to

be going soon.”

“Are you driving again?”

“No.” Caleb sighed.

“Flying?”

Caleb’s jaw squeezed as emotion gripped him. “What’re you doing here, Samuel?” His voice

broke a little, his recent stress shoving him to the edge. “What do you want?”

Stepping closer, Samuel spoke low. “I want you to tell me what’s really going on with you?”

Hurt crept into his eyes. “And why you would take something so perfect as what we have together…

and just throw it away?” Caleb started to speak, but Samuel interjected. “And don’t hand me that I

don’t love you bit.” He closed what little space remained between them and grabbed Caleb’s face.

“Because that’s bullshit, baby.”

He kissed him with a passion that nearly buckled Caleb’s knees, his warm, slick tongue

delving deep into Caleb’s mouth. To keep from dropping to the floor, Caleb grabbed onto the man,

clutching his shirt, pulling him closer, then his arms went around Samuel’s back. He moaned loud and

dug his fingers into the guy’s firm muscles. His back sank into the sofa cushions as Samuel laid him

down, the weight of Samuel’s body pressing down on him, his urgent mouth shifting to Caleb’s throat.

What’re you doing? You know what Brock said! His mind cleared in a snap, jerking him back

to reality so hard it caused a fierce thump in his head. “Samuel…no.” He pushed against the man but

he was a solid force, unmovable. “Stop…we can’t….” His throat closed and tears welled up fast as

all he wanted was to pull the guy closer and hold on so tight.

“Why can’t we?” Samuel groaned then lifted his head and stared down at him, but made no

move to let him up. “Why, Caleb? What changed? Tell me.” Desperation singed his words. His

fingers pushed through Caleb’s hair and he kissed him again. “I know you love me, baby. I know you

do. I can feel it. Right now I can feel you wanting me, needing me.” He pressed his lips to Caleb’s

mouth in a firm kiss then whispered, “Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

Caleb turned away from the kiss and choked on a sob. He caught a glimpse of the digital clock

in the small kitchen; almost six o’clock. “I have to go.” He pushed at Samuel, fighting his tears.

“Not yet.” Samuel insisted. “Just talk to me, dammit.”

“I have to go!” Caleb choked and Samuel finally let him up. He rubbed a shaky hand across

his face and went quickly to the bedroom and grabbed his bag, then returned to the living room. He

avoided Samuel’s stare and went to the door and paused, his back to the man. “We can’t do this

anymore, Samuel.” He whispered thickly. “You can’t…come over here again.” His chin trembled and

he squeezed his eyes shut, struggling to control his breathing. “I’m sorry.”

He opened the door and left the apartment, taking out his cell and calling a cab.

* * * *

Samuel didn’t move when Caleb walked out. His words still hurt, but Samuel now knew for

certain that the guy still cared for him, still desired him. All else was incidental as long as that much

was true. When he returned from his trip, he would make him talk to him—whether or not he wanted

to. There was no way in hell he was going to lose Caleb for reasons that weren’t even explained to

him.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby.” He whispered. “You can tell me to stay away, but I know

that isn’t really what you want.” Samuel stood up from the sofa, but rather than go to the door and

leave the apartment, he walked into the bedroom and lay down on the bed. If he couldn’t hold Caleb

right now, at least he wanted to lie where they had made love, where the young man’s scent filled his

senses.

He hadn’t planned on coming over so early, but these days sleep just wasn’t happening for

him. Finding Caleb up and dressed in a suit had been the last thing he’d expected, and he didn’t know

why he was dressed up that way to go see his brother. But the guy’s apparel of choice wasn’t of

concern to him. His sudden insistence on pushing Samuel from his life—was.

A shuddered breath seeped out and Samuel rolled over, hugging Caleb’s pillow, breathing

him in. Oh god, baby, I can’t do this. I need you so bad. I need to feel you beside me when I sleep…

or I may never sleep again.

It was nearly seven o’clock before he finally crawled off Caleb’s bed and left the apartment,

locking up behind him.

* * * *

The cab ride to the airport passed much too quickly. With each overpass sign that directed

them closer and closer, Caleb’s stomach knotted tighter until a sharp, constant pain stabbed his gut

without relief. And when he finally exited the cab and walked into the terminal, the pain mingled with

nausea.

He found Brock where he said he would be. The man looked him over approvingly. “A

definite improvement.” He said in regards to Caleb’s attire. “You actually look like a respectable

young man.”

His condescending attitude ground at Caleb. If you’re so fucking disapproving of my lifestyle

—why’re you in such a hurry to get your cock in my ass? Fucking hypocrite.

“You’re on time.” Brock said, as if he were surprised.

“I can read a fucking clock.” Caleb muttered.

The man looked at him, eyes slightly narrowed. His voice dropped for Caleb’s ears only.

“You will lose that smartass tone, do you understand?” he said. “I get enough of that adolescent shit

from Samuel. I won’t tolerate it with you as well.”

Brock stared at him, expecting a response. Caleb’s lips tightened. “I apologize.” He nearly

gagged on his words, wishing to spit in the man’s face. “It won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t.” Brock’s tone lightened but remained triumphant. He had Caleb by the

balls—in more ways than one—and he knew it.

For the duration of the short flight, Caleb relayed the details of Nick’s case, struggling to

retain a non-emotional air. More than once, his voice thickened and began to crack before he forced

his emotions back under control. Brock grew visibly annoyed when Caleb showed any human

feelings about the events, as if it were all business and real lives hadn’t been destroyed, ripped apart.

Never did he give indication that there was anything more to their relationship than strict

business matters. But then, perhaps there wasn’t. It was all just business, to one degree or another. To

look at the man, surely no one detected the secret lusts that lurked inside him. But sitting next to him,

Caleb didn’t miss the slowly growing bulge in his crotch and behind his dull eyes that fire just

waiting for the chance to consume Caleb, sear his heart…burn out his soul.

When they touched down in Raleigh, North Carolina, Brock had a Lincoln Town Car waiting

for them. It looked to Caleb like a small limousine—driver and all. The hotel they were driven to was

much classier than the motel he and Dane had stayed in. But at this moment, Caleb would’ve given

anything to be back in that room with Dane, rather than checking into an expensive suite with Brock

Coulson. Things of hell were often disguised as the luxuries of life.

Caleb wasn’t surprised to find the suite consisted of one king-sized bed. When Brock caught

him standing in the doorway to the bedroom, staring at the bed, he stepped up behind him and slid his

hand down into Caleb’s crotch, gripping his cock through his expensive slacks. “Can’t wait to fuck

you on that bed.” His hot breath puffed against Caleb’s ear and his crotch hardened against his ass.

Caleb didn’t reply. Brock pulled his hand away. “Let’s get this meeting over with.” He gripped

Caleb’s chin and turned his face, kissing his mouth hard. “I want your ass.”

Chapter Nine

Nothing I Wouldn’t Do

The kid had yet to ask him about the condition of his face, or perhaps he didn’t want the gory

details. Nick didn’t want to tell them. He couldn’t help but wonder if next time it would be worse—

much worse. Jacob had stopped it this time, but he wasn’t here now. How soon before they came

back for another round? And what if they set their eyes on Christian?

“So why did you kick a cop in the nuts?” Nick and Christian walked the perimeter of the yard

fence. Nick never really shifted his attention from the other inmates, always watching from the corner

of his eye. He’d discovered the perils of letting down his guard.

The young man stared at the ground as they walked. “He wasn’t just a cop.” He said. “He was

my stepdad. And a total fag. He started messing with me when I was in my early teens. When I tried to

fight him, he would beat the piss out of me, and fuck me anyway.”

Nick looked at him. How could there still be so much innocence in his eyes after such an

ordeal. “I’m sorry.” He murmured, his gut twisting. What the fuck was wrong with humanity? His

eyes lingered on the boy. It made no sense to him how someone could hurt such an angelic creature.

“The last time he tried to get at me,” Christian said quietly, “I made him regret it.”

“By kicking him in the balls?”

“No.” he murmured and looked at Nick. “By shooting him in the balls.”

Nick stopped walking. “Did you….”

“Kill him?” Christian shook his head slowly. “No. But I’d wanted to. There was nothing I

wanted more than for him to just die. And he would’ve bled out if my stepbrother hadn’t come home

and found him.” He sniffed then cleared his throat. “After they took him away to the hospital, my

stepbrother held the gun to my head and threatened to kill me. Instead of pulling the trigger, though, he

pistol whipped me almost to death.”

Nick’s throat tightened. “He didn’t know what his dad was doing to you?”

“He knew.” Christian shrugged. “The guy did it to him too. But he grew up with it. It started

much earlier for him. I guess he just thought it was how it was supposed to be. He didn’t fight it, or

hate his dad. He actually seemed to have an unnatural affection for the man…as if his dad fucking him

was a show of love or something.”

“That’s messed up.” Nick whispered. His hopes that this beautiful boy might swing his way

were dashed amidst talk of his stepdad. Not only was the boy surely straight, his expression—a total

fag—gave light to his complete aversion to homosexuality. And could he blame the kid? His first

encounter with it was one of violence. Just admitting to the boy now that he was gay would likely put

up a wall between them, and Nick didn’t want that. Maybe there could never be anything intimate

between them, but he liked the kid’s company and wanted them to be friends.

As soon as they returned to their cell a short while later, Nick was immediately called out for

a visit. Caleb was the only one on the outside who visited him, and he had just been here.

Why would he come back so soon?

* * * *

When Brock and Caleb entered the large visiting area, Nick was already waiting at the table.

Brock raised an eyebrow and murmured, “Looks like he isn’t getting along with the locals.” There

was a hint of amusement in the man’s tone that grated against Caleb’s nerves with rusty blades.

Nick stood up slowly, a frown of uncertainty pinching his brow. “Caleb?” he stepped away

from the table and hugged him tight. “What’s going on?”

Stepping back, Caleb cleared his throat of the strain of tears as he took in the devastation of

his brother’s face. “This is Brock Coulson.” He said. “He’s an attorney, from New York.”

Brock reached out, a change coming over him that successfully concealed his true nature. “It’s

nice to meet you, Nick.” They shook hands.

“It’s…nice to meet you too.” Nick murmured, still confused as he looked at Caleb. “I don’t

understand. How…are you paying the legal fees?”

Brock motioned for Nick to sit down, then took a seat across the table from him. Caleb sat

next to Nick, wanting distance from Brock. “Caleb and I have come to an arrangement concerning the

fee. So you don’t need to be concerned about that.” He set his briefcase on the table and opened it,

taking out a simple notepad, the same one he’d scribbled on while Caleb had been giving him the

details of Nick’s case.

“Caleb has explained the events that led to your arrest and conviction, and my firm will have

all the files within a day or so for me to go over.” He met Nick’s eyes head on, unwavering, offering

not so much as a hint that his and Caleb’s arrangement consisted of his cock in the ass of Nick’s little

brother. “But I need to hear it from you directly.” He smiled and it actually appeared genuine. “After,

of course, you officially take me on as your attorney.”

“Uh…” Nick rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at Caleb, then looked at Brock. “Yes,

I’ll take you on. I mean, if…” he looked at Caleb again. “If everything is worked out concerning the

fees.”

“I assure you.” Brock’s smile widened. “It is.”

* * * *

“I see you’re going to grace us with your presence today.” Nolan Emery gave Samuel a dry

look from behind his desk.

“Figured I should make an appearance.” Samuel returned as dryly. A slight smirk grabbed the

corner of his mouth. “Knew you would miss me if I didn’t.”

Nolan chuffed and shifted his attention back to documents before him.

“Is that a new case?” Samuel took the chair across the desk from Emery.

“Yes.” The man murmured without looking up.

Samuel shrugged. “So where do we start? What are the details?” He realized he sounded

more eager than he felt. But he needed something to occupy his thoughts until Caleb returned home.

Just sitting around and thinking about him would drive him mad.

“Vehicular manslaughter.” Nolen spoke low, without emotion. “Six year old child was killed.

Driver was drunk.”

Tension tightened Samuel’s gut. His real dad was killed by a drunk driver. He had no

tolerance for irresponsible assholes who got behind the wheel while drinking. “And we’re…

representing the drunk driver?”

“Your father is a criminal defense attorney.” Nolan murmured dryly. He looked up. “But this

is an appeals case. The incident took place over four years ago.”

Samuel nodded, eyes heavy with cynicism. “Let me guess—he insists he’s innocent? Or she.”

“Aren’t they all?” Nolan muttered with a dull tone, eyes still on the documents as he sifted

through the papers. He glanced up. “I want you to start on the Dawson case. Armed robbery. Set up a

meeting with the client. Get his statement of the events.”

“What about this case?” Samuel nodded at the papers. If Emery wasn’t putting him on the

manslaughter case, he wouldn’t argue.

“Your father don’t want you on this case.” Nolan said. “In fact, he gave strict orders for you to

stay away from it. Work on the Harrison case.”

Samuel frowned. “Why doesn’t he want me on this one?” He knew it had nothing to do with

the drunk driving element—Brock Coulson didn’t have enough of a heart or soul to care that it might

conjure up painful memories for Samuel. If he didn’t want his involvement, it was for other reasons.

“He didn’t say.” Nolan admitted. “And it doesn’t matter. You take the cases given to you.” He

rolled his chair back towards the polished wood file cabinets, opened the G-H drawer and tugged out

a file, then slid forward again. He dropped the case file on the desk in front of Samuel. “Get to

work.”

Samuel stood up and grabbed the file. The man’s authoritative tone annoyed him, but he also

realized he’d developed a problem with authority figures after the death of his father. Emery wasn’t a

bad guy, just a bit too uptight and stiff in the collar. But what could he expect? The man worked for

Brock Coulson—and that in itself was enough to make anyone go around as if they had a corncob up

their ass.

* * * *

There was no concrete reason for Nick to dislike the attorney, but he was finding it difficult to

warm up to the man. He was friendly enough, and seemed genuinely interested in securing justice for

Nick…but in his gut was the nagging feeling that left him ill at ease. He’d spent the last four years

surrounded by predators, and he knew the look—even when it was cleverly concealed. And

something behind this man’s eyes warned Nick he wasn’t a good guy. Nor was he oblivious to

Caleb’s aversion of being close to Coulson. Did he sense it as well?

Still, the man seemed to know his shit and Caleb had clearly gone to great lengths to secure

his representation. He needed out of this place before it killed him. But even more than that, he

needed the weight of guilt off his little brother’s shoulders. And that would only happen with Nick’s

exoneration and release.

The attorney listened, jotting down notes, as Nick explained in intricate detail what had

happened that day. He didn’t try to play innocent or wrongfully accused card. He suspected this man

had heard it enough in the past and didn’t buy it. It was his job to defend the accused, but Nick

doubted that Coulson really believed in the innocence of his clients. Including Nick himself. So he

didn’t stress his lack of blame in the incident, simply told it as is had happened. And left Caleb out of

it.

“Is it all right if I speak to my brother for a moment?” Nick asked when Coulson gathered his

notes and stood to leave.

He nodded. “Of course.” He said, and shook Nick’s hand again. “And rest assured, your case

will make it back to court. At the very least, we’ll get your sentence reduced. But I will go for a

complete dismissal, considering the time you’ve already served.”

“Is that…really a possibility?” Nick asked, afraid to hope.

“Yes.” The attorney said without hesitation. “Once your innocence in the matter is proven.

Even if we can get your sentence reduced to involuntary manslaughter, you’ve already served more

than the maximum sentence. So yes, it is a real possibility.”

“Thank you.” Nick’s throat tightened. He might not straight up like the guy, but he was

nonetheless grateful that he would take on his case.

Coulson smiled and nodded. “Thank your brother.” He said. “If it wasn’t for him…I wouldn’t

be here now.”

He bid Nick goodbye and told him he would be in contact, then left the visitor area. Nick

looked at Caleb, whose eyes followed Coulson. “You’re amazing, little brother.” Nick gripped the

back of Caleb’s neck and kissed his head. “How did you do it? I mean, a New York criminal

attorney? How the hell did you swing that?” He chuckled and hugged him tight.

“Where there’s a will there’s a way.” Caleb murmured and hugged him back, squeezing him in

a death grip. “I love you, Nick.” His voice thickened with emotion. “You shouldn’t be here. There’s

nothing I wouldn’t do to get you out of this place.” When he drew back, tears filled his eyes and his

chin trembled slightly. “Nothing.”

Chapter Ten

Pay the Piper

Sticking to his guns and finally insisting Horatio leave—had been the most difficult task Max

had had to face in nearly twenty years; the last being when he’d broken up with the guy in the first

place. Letting him back in, even for a few hours, had been a monumental mistake and given the man a

foothold in Max’s heart that Horatio was well aware of now.

How long until he came back around again? Horatio’s intense, even desperate, need to be

with Max wouldn’t allow him keep his distance. And now that he knew the door was unlocked, what

would stop him from walking through it whenever he pleased? Max could tell himself that he would

stop him…but he knew better than that now. Making love to the man again after all this time

weakened his resolve immensely. His determination from before was crumbling, coming apart piece

by piece. He didn’t want to grow old alone, didn’t want to live out the rest of his life coming home to

an empty house and even emptier heart.

Max wanted what Horatio was offering. Needed it more than he’d ever needed anything. He’d

often wondered if he had opened the Phoenix Club as a way to not feel so alone. Surround himself

with beautiful boys in hopes that it might dull his yearning for Horatio. And though he’d done his fair

share of dipping into that lovely boy pool, and more often than not the sex was amazing…nothing

stopped the ache in his heart.

The club was moderately quiet today. Monday mornings were never very lively, even Monday

nights didn’t seem to bring in much of a crowd. Too many customers recuperating from the wild

weekend nights, here at the club and abroad. Max wished for a Friday or Saturday night about now.

He didn’t want to think. He just wanted distraction.

“Hey, boss.” Dane slid into Max’s private booth at the back of the club. “Everything all right?

You look like you just ran over a puppy.”

Max chuckled and shook his head. “Thanks for the mental image, that helps.”

Dane laughed low. “Sorry.” He looked at the man. “So…is everything all right?”

Is everything all right? He stared at his glass of scotch, fingering the ice cubes. “Sometimes,”

he said quietly. “Life just fucking sucks.” He raised the glass and downed the contents, then cleared

his throat and looked at the young man. “Know what I mean?”

Nodding slowly, Dane murmured, “Unfortunately, I do.”

“So, uh,” Max cleared his throat again, nodded at Carl and lifted his glass, indicating the

bartender bring him another. “How is Caleb settling in?”

Dane smiled and shook his head. “Why does everyone keep asking me that question?” he

wondered. “What am I—the boy’s guardian?”

“No.” Max smirked. “But you are his admirer. So who would know better than you?”

“Admirer?” Dane cocked an eyebrow and looked at Max. “What do you mean by that,

exactly?”

Carl came over and handed Max a fresh glass of scotch on the rocks. “Thanks, Carl.”

The guy nodded then glanced at Dane. “Want anything?”

“No thanks.” Dane smiled. “I’m good.”

The bartender returned to the bar and Max sipped his drink. “I mean…you clearly got a thing

for the kid. Noticed that the first time I introduced you to him.”

“Yeah, well.” Dane shrugged, lips pursing. “That’s a mute subject. Caleb’s gone on someone

else.” He sighed and smiled, but his eyes were heavy with longing. “Hence the life sucks angle for

me.”

Max shook his head and took another drink. “I can’t help but feel that life itself is a living

force with a twisted sense of humor, and just loves to fuck with us every chance it gets.”

“Sure seems that way.” Dane murmured and stared across the club.

Max gazed at the man; sometimes being around his boys every day he forgot how truly

beautiful they were. And Dane topped the chart. “So what do we do?” Max asked quietly. Dane

looked at him inquiringly. Max shrugged, “Fuck it right back?”

A smile touched Dane’s perfect lips as he held Max’s eyes. “Why not?” he spoke low, a

sudden thickness to his voice and heat in his gaze.

Max stared at him for a long moment; what had he just proposed to the man? The answer came

to him when Dane slid out of the booth slowly and stood, just looking at him. If you can’t be with the

one you love…love the one you’re with.

Such sound advice seemed to be the order of the day.

* * * *

It’s just fucking. What’s the big deal? You don’t have to like the guy—just get him off. It

doesn’t have to be some tragic event. Just fuck him and get it over with.

Caleb struggled to hold onto that mindset when Brock shoved him down on the bed, the weight

of his body pushing him into the thick, soft comforter. The man’s hard cock strained against the crotch

of his pants and ground against Caleb’s thigh as he tugged at Caleb’s tie with force, finally unraveling

it and yanking it off. Then his fingers worked quick and efficient to pop loose the buttons of his shirt

all the way down to his waist, jerking the shirt tails free and shoving it open to expose his chest and

stomach.

Hot breath puffed against his skin as Brock began to breathe harder, lust igniting him. He bit

Caleb’s nipple—not sensually as Samuel did—but hard, painful. He sucked in a sharp breath and bit

his lip as tears burned his eyes, the man’s teeth squeezing the sensitive bud until Caleb cried out.

“That hurts!” he choked and shoved at the man’s head, but he refused to let loose until Caleb stopped

resisting.

When Brock’s teeth released him, Caleb gasped with relief but the nipple and surrounding

skin throbbed and stung. Brock seemed unconcerned that he’d hurt Caleb and shifted to his other

nipple, biting onto it, though not quite as hard, yet still enough to be painful. Thankfully he moved off

of it more quickly, releasing the pressure. But then his mouth was on Caleb’s neck, biting the tender

skin nearly as hard, sucking with force.

A slight panic rushed through him; he was leaving marks. Was he doing it on purpose so when

Samuel saw him, he would know he’d been with someone else? Caleb still bore remnants of where

Samuel marked him—surely Brock would know Samuel had been the one to put them there. Was he

taking some sick pleasure in covering them with his own brands?

He let go of his skin and licked up the side of his neck with his full tongue then swirled the tip

around and inside his ear. Caleb cringed and forced himself not to jerk his head away. The man

pushed his hips between Caleb’s thighs and rubbed his confined cock against his crotch. “Oh my god,

your cock feels good.” He panted and bit Caleb’s earlobe. “But it isn’t nearly hard enough. Guess

we’ll have to do something about that.”

His breath rushing out, Caleb closed his eyes, knowing what the man was about to do and also

aware that it would work in getting his dick good and stiff—regardless of the fact that he despised the

guy.

Brock had Caleb’s pants open and tugged them down his legs. His briefs followed, permitting

access to his heavy cock, which lay unresponsive to Brock’s previous actions. But it wouldn’t remain

that way for long. “Time to get hard for daddy.” Brock groaned, and Caleb’s stomach twisted at the

use of the word daddy. His hands wrapped around the soft shaft and he began to stroke him, squeezing

with enough pressure to cause Caleb to gasp a little. How rough would the man be? Would he take

pleasure in hurting him that way as well?

To his dismay, his cock began to slowly swell in Brock’s fists, his testicles tingling. “There

we go.” Brock murmured, a satisfied smile on his face. “About time you got in the game.” He

squeezed harder and stroked faster. Though it hurt to some degree, other sensations began to course

through him as well. Caleb gasped sharp as Brock’s mouth covered the head of his cock then sucked

it quickly into his throat, deep.

Caleb gripped the comforter, breath quickening, struggling to keep his hips from thrusting.

Brock’s hot mouth moved up and down his member, sucking, tugging, stroking until Caleb’s breath

was puffing off his lips in short bursts. A shuddered—“ Fuck”—slipped out when Brock pushed his

mouth down on him hard, driving his cock head down his tight throat canal, the stroked him deep like

that a few times. When the man sucked up off him, Caleb’s cock was hard as stone and trickling cum

juice. Sweat beaded his forehead, chest and stomach.

His hand wrapped around Caleb’s dick once more, Brock stroked him and met his stare. “I

knew you were into this.” He pulled Caleb’s pants and briefs the rest of the way off then discarded

his own clothes. His cock bobbed stiffly, shiny at the tip as pre-cum bubbled and drooled. He

clutched his own member and stroked, smearing the juices up and down his shaft. “Come here.” He

stood at the end of the bed. “I want to fuck that nasty mouth of yours before I fuck your ass.”

Caleb shifted and crawled down to the foot of the bed on hands and knees, his shirt still

clinging to his shoulders. His hard cock swayed between his legs, dripping wetness onto the

comforter and his inner thighs. Brock held his wet cock in his fist and when Caleb got close enough,

rubbed the tip across his lips. “Lick it.” Brock panted. “Lick it like a fucking popsicle.”

Swallowing hard, Caleb forced his stomach not to lurch and began dragging his tongue all

over the man’s cock, giving long licks up the underside.

“Fuck.” Brock groaned and then grabbed a fistful of Caleb’s hair. “Okay…enough playing.

Suck it.” He pushed the head against Caleb’s lips and barely waited for him to open his mouth before

shoving it in further. Caleb quickly relaxed his tongue before he gagged, and tried to accommodate the

man’s hard, swollen member. Brock clutched his hair with both hands and began to move his mouth

back and forth on his cock, thrusting his hips, moaning loud each time his cock head bumped the back

of Caleb’s throat. “Jerk off.”

Brock’s shaky order fell heavily on Caleb and he slowly wrapped one hand around his own

member and began to stroke himself as Brock’s urgency heightened and he fucked his mouth with

need. “Oh fuck yes…yes…you filthy little whores give the best blow jobs.” He bit his lip and

groaned hard, pushing deeper into Caleb’s throat with each thrust. “Uh! Fuck! I want to come down

your throat so fucking bad. But….” he pulled out, dragging the leaking, plump cock head across

Caleb’s tongue, leaving a trail of bitter juice behind. “Right now, I want my cock in that tight little

ass.”

Brock pulled Caleb upright on his knees and tugged his shirt off his shoulders. He grabbed

Caleb’s cock and stroked it a few times, then released him and went to his suitcase, rummaged inside

and came back with a small bottle of lubricant and a couple condoms. If he couldn’t be thankful for

nothing else, Caleb was thankful the guy would wear a rubber. He didn’t want his raw flesh touching

him that deep inside.

“Turn around.” Brock instructed with a dominant tone. Caleb turned around on hands and

knees, ass to the guy. His pulse quickened, heart racing wildly. He closed his eyes. It’s just fucking.

It’s no big deal. Just sex. Don’t make an issue of it . His breath caught and body tensed when Brock

suddenly shoved two coated fingers into his ass, worked them around until he raked Caleb’s sweet

spot. Caleb sucked in a sharp breath and squeezed his eyes tighter. The man began to finger fuck him

hard, ramming his digits into him. He could hear the guy beating off as he did so.

Just fuck me already! Caleb’s throat tightened, tears burning. Get it over with!

A grunt burst from Caleb’s throat when Brock suddenly pulled his fingers free and shoved him

face down on the bed, gripping the back of his neck hard, causing Caleb to wince in pain. “Time to

pay the piper, baby.”

Chapter Eleven

Between Love and Hate

“So who is he?” Dane plucked slowly at the buttons of Max’s shirt, his eyes on the man’s

face. Maybe ten years older than Dane, at most, and still Max Raines was hot as hell. Dane couldn’t

deny that he’d taken a few lingering looks at the guy over the past few years he’d worked at the

Phoenix, but never had it escalated beyond that. Certainly not this far.

Max fingered the waistband of Dane’s pants. “Who is…who?”

“The man I’m standing in for.” He parted the front of Max’s shirt and raked his fingertips

lightly down the man’s torso then rubbed his palms back up over his chest. Max’s breath caught a

little, then quickened.

“Who says there’s a man?”

“Well I’m pretty sure it isn’t a woman.” Dane smiled and moved closer, slipping his hands

around Max’s waist underneath his shirt, then played his fingers up his spine. His face was close, lips

almost touching Max’s mouth. “I know that look.” He murmured and kissed the side of his neck softly.

“I see it every time I look in the mirror lately.”

Max swallowed hard when Dane’s light kiss on his skin grew more intense and he sucked at

his neck. “It’s, uh…” He shuddered and gripped Dane’s arms, his voice rasping. “It’s a long story.

And one I’d just as soon forget.”

“Is it one-sided?” Dane kissed his ear. “This want of the man?”

“No.” Max exhaled unsteadily as Dane pressed up closer, his body pushing against the other

man.

“Well at least you have that.” He tugged Max’s earlobe with his lips. “That’s something.

More than I have with Caleb.”

A hard sigh slipped out of his boss and the guy gripped Dane’s hips pulling him tighter against

him. “Believe me, it might actually be worse.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it.” Dane murmured and drew back enough to kiss Max on the

mouth. Strange, he thought, that he had no qualms about making out with his boss, a man he’d been

around for a few years now and never so much as flirted with. Yet this all felt so…amazingly easy

and natural, to touch and kiss the man. No anxiety or wondering if they shouldn’t be doing this. Just

simple exchange of affection and passion.

He’d wanted desperately to have Caleb that night in the motel, but he would’ve never felt

this…at ease about it, knowing his feelings for Samuel. This was nice, not having to worry about

anything, or even think about it…but just do it.

Max kissed him back with a passion that startled Dane a bit, but felt nice. “Damn,” Max

groaned and tugged at Dane’s lower lip with his teeth. “You are so good looking.”

Smiling, Dane kissed him hard. “You’re pretty damn good looking yourself.” He pushed Max

against the edge of his desk and explored his mouth with his tongue. “I bet you’re even better looking

with your clothes off.”

“Right back at ya.” Max grinned, panting softly, fingers tugging open Dane’s pants.

“So how comfortable is your sofa?” Dane caught his mouth in another kiss as Max pushed him

backwards across the room to the said sofa, then shoved him down on the leather cushions.

Max hovered on hands and knees over the top of him. “You tell me after we’re through.” He

dipped his head and kissed him hungrily as Dane unfastened the man’s pants and slid them down off

his hips, ass and down his thighs then palmed his firm cheeks, squeezing and massaging.

Damn, my boss has a freaking great ass.

* * * *

Caleb pushed up on his elbows when Brock released his neck and drew back. He heard the

low, quick rip of the condom package then the man rolling it down his cock, wet stroking as he coated

his dick with lubricant, then he was up against Caleb’s ass, pushing the thick head into his tight

entrance.

“Fuck, your hole is tight.” Brock groaned loud and pushed harder, sinking more cock into his

ass.

Dropping his head, Caleb squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the blankets, his hips extended

up to the man as he entered him not too slowly or carefully. Brock rubbed his hands over Caleb’s taut

cheeks, squeezing hard, short nails digging in as he spread his ass wider and shoved with his hips,

forcing his cock through the inner bands. Caleb gasped, jaw clenching, tears forming at the corners of

his eyes.

“Holy fuck.” Brock gasped then drove the rest of his dick to the bottom with one hard thrust,

tearing a short, sharp cry from Caleb. “I’m going to have a great time tearing up this sweet tight ass.”

He leaned over Caleb’s back, causing his cock to push in even deeper, staggering Caleb’s breath.

“Court appeals can take time. You and me…” He thrust against him, tearing a hard gasp from Caleb.

“We’re going to have a lot of time to get to know each other real well.” He slammed in again, and the

pooling tears seeped out. “God, I love a tight ass that can take big cock.”

Caleb squeezed the comforter in his fists and tried to breathe normally as the man buried

himself deep and hard into him, again and again. Brock’s hands flattened against his shoulder blades

as the man pushed against him for leverage, crushing him down against the bed as he fucked him

harder, almost viciously. The heels of his palms ground into the thin muscle over his shoulder blades,

causing a pressure that pushed through to his chest and forced his face into the blankets. He gasped for

air and turned his head, chest compressed and hitching with sobs as a quiet panic began to well up.

“Stop…” he cried, voice muffled against the comforter. “I can’t…breathe….”

Brock ignored him as he applied even more pressure, breath puffing hard as his pelvis began

to slap consistently against Caleb’s ass, driving him against the bed. One hand slid up and gripped the

back of his neck again, squeezing hard beneath the force of the man’s sexual fervor. Caleb choked on

a cry and tried to twist out of his grip but there was nowhere to go as his other hand remained pressed

against his back, holding him in place.

“Oh fuck…fuck…yes…” Brock panted and gasped as he pounded Caleb’s ass harder, with

urgency. “Uuuuhhh!! Fuuuck!” His fingers gouged into the sides of Caleb’s neck, digging at the

tendons as the man fucked him harder, faster, his engorged cock hammering him without mercy.

Stop! Please, God, make him stop! Caleb cried into the blankets, struggling to twist his face

to clear an airway to breathe. Brock released his neck suddenly then slapped his ass, hard enough that

Caleb cried out loud as the sting veined into his bones and groin.

“Fuck yes!” Brock panted erratically, cock slamming, palm smacking his burning ass cheek

again. “Give me this ass, you fucking little slut!” Another stinging slap and Caleb wailed, which

seemed to urge the man on. “You’re my bitch now!” Caleb was incredulous when the guy actually

laughed out loud and slapped him again, this time catching part of his upper thigh. “Oh yeah, wouldn’t

Samuel love to see this.” At the mention of his stepson, Brock growled and dropped down on top of

Caleb, crushing him against the bed with the full weight of his body.

Air burst from Caleb’s lungs and didn’t want to suck back in. Brock shoved his arm around

his throat and lifted his head, his muscled forearm putting pressure against Caleb’s windpipe. The

man bounced off his ass, shaking the bed, drilling Caleb with his steel cock. “Oh fuck.” Brock’s hot

breath rushed out against the side of Caleb’s face. “Having fun yet, little bitch?”

Tears streaked Caleb’s face as Brock’s arm caused his back to arch painfully and nearly cut

off his airway. Just come! Please come and just stop! Blackness ebbed at the edges of Caleb’s

vision as lack of oxygen began to take effect.

Brock’s face dropped against his shoulder as the man suddenly cried out, wailing loud, as he

fucked Caleb with renewed urgency, the weight of his body seeming to gather in his hips as he

slammed ferociously against Caleb’s ass, his cock like a piston snapping in and out of his raw cave.

Choking against the man’s arm as it tightened with the force of his impending orgasm, Caleb

gasped frantically for air, willing the man to blow his wad and release him. Another strangled cry and

Brock shoved in hard and held his cock deep inside, applying short, static pumps as his body locked

up and he came forcefully. His arm squeezed tighter for a moment as the man’s breath caught and

held, his cock pumping Caleb’s ass until he began to slowly relax. He loosened his arm a little and

Caleb coughed then sucked in air, but the pressure of his body sagging down against him still made it

difficult to breathe.

Get off me! He wanted to scream. Get the fuck off me now! You got what you wanted! Get off

me!

Brock chuckled, breath puffing against the back of Caleb’s neck. “Bet Samuel don’t fuck you

like that, huh?”

No, Caleb pressed his face into the blankets, muffling his cries. He makes love to me…he

doesn’t rape me.

* * * *

Their clothes were scattered on the floor, tossed aside, discarded without care. “Turn over.”

Max murmured and Dane complied, the cool, slick leather of the sofa cushions pressing against his

hard cock, making it feel good. Max rubbed his hands slowly down over Dane’s firm ass, squeezing

gently, then spreading him open. Dane buried his face in his arm and groaned when the man’s tongue

flicked against his tight entrance, causing the ring to squeeze and flex with anticipation.

“Fuck.” He gasped softly, his hips shifting ever so slightly, wanting so much more. He bit his

forearm and whimpered as Max dragged his warm, slick tongue up through the crease of his ass then

back down to his door, nudging at it with the tip. “Fuck, Max…you have a wonderful tongue.”

The man smiled against his cheeks and then let saliva drip onto his entrance. He sucked his

finger then inserted it slowly.

“Mmm!” Dane’s hips pressed down against the cushions, body tensing, inner ass muscles

flexing hard around Max’s finger. “Fuck!” he gasped, releasing a sharp breath. “Damn. You have

great fingers too.”

Max worked in a second finger, found his spot then rubbed it sensually until Dane began to

squirm and whimper and beg him to show him what an incredible cock he had as well. Apparently

Max was in an obliging mood because he quickly moved up over Dane’s ass, coated his cock with

spit then pushed into him slowly and with care.

“Oh fuck!” Dane gripped fistfuls of the leather cushion, his ass shoving back onto Max’s cock

as the guy pushed his hardness deeper and deeper inside. Dane’s throat tightened as his jaw clenched.

“Fuck.” He squeezed out tightly. “Yes. God. Fuck, Max.” His head tilted back and he gasped loud.

“Fuck! Give it to me! Yes! Oh my god! Fuck me!”

Max dropped one hand down against the cushion and gripped the back of the sofa with his

other and began to work his hard cock in and out of Dane’s tight ass. “Fuuuck!” Max choked with

ecstasy, pumping him a little harder, bumping against his ass cheeks. “Oh shit, Dane,” he panted.

“You feel so fucking good.” He planted one foot on the floor and used it for leverage as he fucked the

younger man with greater urgency.

“Uuh!” Dane yelled and pushed against the cushions, fucking the man back with eagerness and

enthusiasm. “Oh my god! Fuck me, baby! Fuck me harder!”

Gripping his shoulder, Max drove his cock into him with more force, bouncing them on the

sofa. “Fuck! God, Dane, my cock’s so fucking hard! I don’t know how long I can hold it!” He shifted

their position suddenly so he was sitting on the sofa and Dane was on him, riding his cock, facing

away. Max reached around him and grabbed his dick, stroking him fast and urgent as Dane moved his

ass up and down his stiff shaft.

“Fuck! Yes.” Dane gasped as Max squeezed his cock in his fist and pumped him hard. “Oh

fuck!” One arm shot back and gripped Max’s shoulder, twisting his torso as he bounced on the man’s

dick and the guy jerked him off. “Fuuuck! I’m gonna come! Shit!”

Max’s body tensed and locked under him, his hips pumping against Dane’s ass fervently as the

man cried out and came hard. His fist tightened around Dane’s cock and whipped up and down his

swelling shaft as a strangled wail rushed up Dane’s throat and exploded out as his hips jerked hard

and he blew shots of cum into the air. Max continued to stroke him until he began to relax, then Dane

slid off him and dropped onto the sofa beside his boss.

“Fuck.” Dane panted and wiped his hand over his sweaty face and laid his head back against

the sofa, chest heaving. Max leaned back next to him, eyes heavy but a satisfied smile on his face.

Dane reached up and played the tip of his fingers through the hair at Max’s temple, and grinned. “You

are, hands down, the best boss I’ve ever had.” He chuckled. “Well, I guess you’re the only boss I

ever had…but the best nonetheless.”

Max chuckled softly and sighed heavily. “Thanks.” He looked at Dane, gratitude swimming in

his eyes. “For everything.”

“You too.” Dane whispered.

“Is my sofa comfortable?”

“Damn comfortable.” Dane smiled and kissed him.

Chapter Twelve

Exposed

“So, was it your brother here to visit you?” Christian sat in the hard chair at the small desk,

watching Nick as he dropped down on the edge of his bunk and pulled off his shoes.

“Yeah.” Nick looked up and grinned, then rested his elbows on his knees. “It’s crazy.

Somehow he got a criminal defense attorney from New York to take on my case. Can you believe it?

Some big wig who I know has got to charge astronomical fees. Yet, Caleb worked out some deal with

him and got him to take the case.”

“Wow.” Christian smiled. “That’s like… a miracle or something.”

“No shit.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I think I’m still in shock.”

“Your brother sounds pretty amazing.”

Nick nodded and grinned. “He is. The best brother in the whole fucking world.” He shook his

head again. “God, I love him to death.”

Smiling, Christian gazed at him. “So…what does all this mean? Do you think the attorney can

get you released?”

“He’s going to try.” Nick lay down on his bunk and tucked his arms under his head, staring at

the bottom of the upper bunk. “He has to file an appeal, and then we go to court again. He seemed

pretty positive about the whole thing though.”

Christian nodded and pursed his lips, staring at the floor. “So you should be out of here soon,

huh?”

“God willing.” Nick said, hoping against hope that he, indeed, was willing.

Sighing softly, Christian stood up. “That’s great, man.” He murmured. “Hope it all works

out.” He climbed up on the top bunk and lay still, falling silent.

When he didn’t make a sound after a few minutes, Nick frowned. “You all right, Chris?”

More silence, then finally—“Yeah.” The kid said quietly with a notable rasp to his voice, and

offered nothing more.

His frown deepening, Nick pushed up on his elbows and stared at the bottom of the top bunk.

“You sure?”

Christian cleared his throat. “Yeah.” He murmured. “I’m sure.” Then after a moment added

almost hesitantly, “I’ll miss you, Nick.” A tightness suddenly strained his voice.

The boy’s confession had a funny effect on Nick’s heart rate, jumping it up a few notches. He

climbed out of the bunk and stood up, resting his arms on the edge of the upper bunk. Christian stared

blankly at the ceiling. He turned his eyes slowly to Nick.

“I’ll miss you too, Chris.” Nick said softly, then smiled. “But I’m not gone yet, and the way

the courts run, I may still be here for quite some time.” He nudged his leg with his hand and grinned,

“So you don’t have to start missing me yet.”

“I don’t mean to imply that I want you to stay in here.” Chris said quietly. “I mean, from the

looks of that face…this hasn’t exactly been a vacation for you.”

Nick chuckled and cocked an eyebrow. “What? This?” he shrugged. “Just superficial

wounds.”

Christian smiled but sadness darkened his lovely blue eyes. “I’m serious, Nick. I want to see

you get out of here, be with your brother again and be able to enjoy life.”

“Well.” Nick squeezed the kid’s arm affectionately. “I would like to see you get out of here

too.”

“Thanks.” Christian whispered then looked at the ceiling again and sighed softly. “But that

ain’t happening.” He smiled and shrugged, “I mean, fuck—I shot a cop in the balls.” He looked at

Nick and chuckled. “Apparently that’s a huge no-no these days. Who knew?”

“Fuck.” Nick laughed and ducked his head. “You’re one of a kind, Chris.” He raised his head

and cleared his throat, then smacked the boy lightly on the leg. “Come on. Instead of laying up here

and preparing to miss me, why don’t you hop down and play some cards with me?” He smirked.

“Make the most of your time with me and my handsome face.”

“All right, I guess so.” Christian grumbled then grinned as Nick stepped back and he jumped

down off the bunk. “So what’re we gonna play?”

Nick sat on the edge of his bunk and reached under his pillow, taking out a deck of worn cards

with a rubber band around it. “Poker works for me.” He said. “Although…I don’t know what we’ll

use for chips.”

“Well,” Christian sat down on the other end of the bunk. “Maybe we don’t need chips.”

“And why wouldn’t we need chips?” Nick frowned, smiling. He tugged off the rubber band

and began shuffling the cards.

The boy shrugged then looked at him, a mischievous gleam tainting the innocence in his sky

blue eyes. “We could play…strip poker.”

Nick froze mid-shuffle and stared at the kid; had he just heard him right? He frowned

uncertainly. “Well, uh…wouldn’t you be more comfortable playing strip poker with…a girl?”

A smile curving his very kissable lips, Christian shrugged. “No, not really.” His eyes

narrowed somewhat, his smile shifting to a bit of a smirk. “Why…would you?”

Nick couldn’t stop the force of breath pushing through his nostrils and prayed it didn’t sound

as loud outside his head as it did inside. “No.” he murmured, smiling slowly, his heart beginning to

thump hard against his ribs. “Not at all.”

“Then deal.” Christian nodded at the cards though his heavenly eyes remained locked with

Nick’s somewhat stunned gaze.

You’re on a roll, God—keep the blessings coming.

Clearing his throat, Nick began to pass out the cards, then glanced towards the open cell door

and paused.

“What’s wrong?” Christian looked at the door, then back to Nick.

“Uh.” Nick laughed low and met the boy’s eyes. “Maybe…we should wait until tonight to

play. You know,” he shrugged and nodded towards the door. “Less chance of someone walking in and

catching us in our skivvies.”

That gleam sparkled through Christian’s eyes again. “You mean, catch you in your

skivvies…’cause I’m so gonna win.”

Nick chuckled. “Is that so?”

“Yep.” Christian smiled and Nick’s heart kicked his chest wall with force.

“We’ll see.” Nick murmured and glanced at the boy, grinning. “But we’ll see tonight.”

Christian shrugged. “Okay.” His gaze gripped Nick’s eyes, his voice soft, perhaps even

suggestive—or was that wishful thinking?—when he asked, “So…what do you want to do till then?”

Catch my breath and learn how to breathe again?

* * * *

The pain in his back alternated between a dull throbbing pressure and sharp stabbing spears.

Caleb didn’t move as Brock settled on the bed next to him and he listened as the man removed the full

condom. He dropped it in the small waste basket beside the bed then his tacky wet fingertips touched

Caleb’s shoulder. “Come here.” His breath was quick, uneven, from the force with which he’d fucked

Caleb. “Suck on my cock. Sometimes the best blow jobs are the ones right after I come.”

Caleb gripped the comforter, his face turned away from the man, body aching inside and out.

He just wanted to sleep—or die. Right now he really didn’t give a fuck which it was.

“Don’t make me ask twice.” A veiled warning permeated his tone.

Rubbing his face against the blankets to rid his eyes of tears, Caleb shifted then choked back a

sob when his body protested vehemently. He sucked in a sharp breath and twisted around slowly. The

man’s thick cock lay heavy against his thigh, shiny with remnants of cum, the tip still oozing a little.

Caleb watched a single drop of creamy cum seep out and drain down over the crown then trickle onto

Brock’s sweat slick thigh.

Not wishing to think about what he was doing, Caleb tried to turn off his mind as he worked

his sore body between the man’s legs and wrapped his hand around his cock. The meat was hot and

tacky to the touch, and twitched when Caleb’s fist squeezed a little. “Suck it.” Brock groaned and

leaned back against the cushioned headboard of the huge bed, eyes closing as he relaxed and exhaled

low.

Caleb stared at his face for a moment, sweat droplets sliding down his temples and brow, hair

damp and clinging to the edges of his face and sides of his neck. He couldn’t determine if Brock

Coulson was a good looking man or not—because all Caleb saw was the beast within.

When Brock shifted his hips and cleared his throat as if to speak—no doubt insisting Caleb

get about sucking his cock—Caleb swallowed hard then wrapped his lips around the man’s softened

crown. He tried to think about Samuel, pretend it was his cock he was sucking, but thoughts of Samuel

only consumed him with guilt and betrayal, so he pushed him from his mind as best he could.

Brock flattened his palm against the back of Caleb’s head and pushed his mouth further down

on his dick. Having just come, the man’s cock was no longer engorged and easier to accommodate,

though it still turned Caleb’s stomach as he sucked it all the way in, his mouth tightening, tongue

massaging as he began to stroke at a moderately quick pace.

“No.” Brock squeezed his hair in his fist, holding his head back a bit. “Slower. Take your

time.” He sighed and smiled, eyes still closed. “I just want to relax now. No need to rush. Nice slow,

deep strokes. And use that tongue, suck me good and hard, but just keep it slow.”

How long did he expect him to lay here and blow him? Caleb did as he was told, sliding his

mouth slowly up and down the man’s cock, squeezing, sucking forcefully. Brock moaned and his hand

dropped away from Caleb’s head and rested limply against his hard stomach. The man’s dick swelled

in Caleb’s mouth and the guy moaned again. “Mmmm…yes…you were born to suck cock.” He drew

in a slow, deep breath and released it. “Sucking and fucking…it’s about all you little whores are

good for…but you are definitely good for that.”

Caleb attempted to close his ears as well as his eyes, but it was ineffective as he was forced

to listen to Brock praise his skills as a whore. Apparently the man viewed the filthy little whores as

merely things to be used and discarded, as if he had every right to do so without it reflecting back on

him. Somehow, in his own mind, he remained clean and undefiled.

The space inside Caleb’s mouth began to fill up with more cock as the man hardened a bit

more. His jaw was beginning to ache causing his neck to hurt more than it already did. He shifted a

little so his mouth worked at a straighter angle, moving up and down on Brock’s dick.

Brock groaned. “That’s it.” he breathed, exhaustion strong in his voice. “Get into it. I love an

enthusiastic slut.”

Each swallow of saliva tasted like the man’s cum and it was inciting nausea in the pit of his

stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut against the tears trying to push out. What kind of hell had he

dropped himself into?

When the man’s breathing finally leveled out, chest rising and falling evenly with sleep, Caleb

pulled off him. He went into the bathroom and rinsed out his mouth, then took a shower. It was slow

going, his body wanting to stiffen up from soreness. Brock’s vicious fucking left him raw to the point

that it brought tears to his eyes to even move his legs. And his shoulder blades throbbed painfully

where Brock had ground in the heels of his palms.

Standing before the mirror, he wiped away the steam and stared at himself. Brock had left a

vicious mark on his neck, and around his nipples as well. He turned slowly, trying to get a glimpse of

his back, but it hurt too much to twist his body.

He secured a towel around his waist and returned to the bedroom and dressed in some of the

clothes he’d brought with him, rather than the suit. Brock lay against the headboard, sleeping soundly,

naked body splayed out on top of the comforter. His face blurred before Caleb. Just die in your

fucking sleep.

But of course, if Caleb got his wish—Nick would be out of luck. Caleb rubbed his eyes free

of the rising tears then cleared his throat. He turned away from the sight of the man, then went rigid

when he noticed Brock’s small netbook sitting open on the bureau—the webcam light glowing bright

red.

His pulse quickened. He was recording their sex?

Chapter Thirteen

Coerced Confessions

Dane’s revelation concerning Caleb’s brother took the forefront of Samuel’s thoughts and

made it difficult to concentrate on the task at hand. He realized he was coming off as less than

professional as he sat in the living room of one Jorge Hernandez, store owner and victim of armed

robbery.

“I know you’ve already given your statement to the police.” Samuel told the man. “But

please…tell me again what exactly happened the night Lawrence Dawson came into your store.”

Jorge fidgeted, his aging face pinching as he recalled the events. “I could tell he was on

something when he entered the store. He grabbed a case of beer and brought it to the register. When I

rang it up and told him what he owed, he laughed and pulled a gun on me. He said ‘you come into our

country, steal our jobs, fuck our women, and you say I owe you? I don’t owe you shit, you fucking

wetback’.”

Nodding slowly, Samuel cleared his throat; what the fuck was wrong with the people of this

country? “Did he…say or do anything else?”

“He shot out a couple of the cooler doors then shot the register.” Jorge swallowed thickly. “I

thought for sure he was going to shoot me too.”

“And then he left?”

“Yes.” Jorge said. “He ran out with the case of beer and jumped in a car with his friends.

They were laughing, calling him crazy. Then they took off.”

“You got a good look at the car?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “It was an expensive car, maybe a Porsche or Mercedes, I’m not sure.” He

sighed and his brow tightened, a glimmer of anger sparking his eyes. “Are you asking me these

questions so you can build a better case for him? You are defending him, right?”

Samuel licked his lips. “Well, not me personally. But my firm, yes.”

“Why waste time in court?” Jorge stood up, his anger growing. “Just slap his wrists now and

let him go. When do the rich kids ever have to own up to their actions when they got rich parents to

bail them out? Hire the expensive lawyers to find the loop holes? This whole thing is a fucking joke.

It doesn’t matter that the kid was high on drugs, shot up my store, threatened my life, stole from me.

He’s gonna walk away scot free.” He jabbed a finger at Samuel. “And we both fucking know it.”

Samuel stood up slowly, fully understanding the man’s rage. He himself had gotten away with

shit in his lifetime that he shouldn’t have—just so his stepdad could save face. “Mr. Hernandez, I’m

in no way condoning what Mr. Dawson has done—”

“Get out of my house.” The man ordered tightly. “We’re done.”

Nodding slowly, Samuel pursed his lips and sighed. “Okay.” He closed his leather pad.

“Thank you for your time.” He walked to the door.

“Hey.” Jorge stopped him. Samuel turned around. The man looked at him solemnly. “You

seem like a good kid. And right now, I think you still retain some sense of right and wrong.” He

licked his lips slowly and shook his head. “Don’t let this job steal your soul…turn you into a

mindless, heartless drone just looking to win, and not caring if justice is served.”

His stepdad’s face rose in his mind; he was exactly what the man had just described. And

worse. Samuel nodded. “I’ll do my best, sir.” He murmured, then left the house.

The firm’s strategy was to get the statement of the opposing side then confer with their client

to jab holes in the story and spin it in an all new direction. But when Samuel found himself sitting

across from Lawrence Dawson—twenty-two and sporting that smartass smirk that Samuel had seen in

the mirror a few times—he wanted to throw the book at him and have his ass locked up in jail. And

actually speaking with the man did nothing to dissuade such thoughts.

“Look.” Dawson leaned forward and rested his elbows on the glass patio table and lit a

cigarette. “My dad is paying you a shitload of money to keep my ass out of jail.” He leaned back and

sucked on the cigarette, staring at Samuel dryly. “I don’t see the need to go over the events of that

night again and again.”

Ignoring him, Samuel asked low, “Were you on something that night?”

The guy snorted and shrugged. “Maybe.” He took another drag and tilted his head back and

blew the smoke out slowly. “What’s the big deal? I was just having fun. I didn’t hurt the fucking

spic.”

Samuel cleared his throat, trying his level best not to hop across the table and deck the dumb

ass. “So you’re saying that…to you…destroying property, theft, and threatening a man’s life at

gunpoint…is just having fun?”

Dawson shrugged and smirked. “All in the life, man.”

Whatever that meant, Samuel was fairly sure there was no intelligence behind it. He cleared

his throat again. “Well, if you hope to win over the jury, you need to drop your smart ass attitude and

show some fucking remorse.” Samuel stood up suddenly, already sick to death of the guy. “Until then,

your case is in the shitter.” That wasn’t true, of course. Brock would get the charges dropped, or at

least reduced down to the slap on the wrist Jorge Hernandez spoke of. But Samuel wasn’t about to

tell him that.

“Hey!” Dawson scrambled to his feet. “You can’t talk to me like that. You work for me.”

Samuel stared at him dully. “No, asshole. I don’t.” he stepped away from the table. “Your

rich, spoiled ass can rot in prison for all I care.”

The young man shouted threats and curses at him as he walked away. Samuel’s only response

was to flip him off. Not very mature, Samuel knew…but somewhat satisfying nonetheless.

* * * *

Caleb realized the sole reason for them spending the night in North Carolina rather than

catching a flight back to New York, was for Brock’s own lustful purposes. When he boldly asked the

man about the webcam, Brock merely chuckled and said it was for his private video library.

When Brock went down to the lobby to send a fax back to the firm concerning Nick’s case, he

didn’t return until a few hours later. The strong scent of liquor on his breath and his urgent, groping

hands told Caleb the guy was three sheets to the wind. Which, unfortunately, had no hindrance on his

performance. There were no pleasantries as he bent Caleb over the end of the bed and fucked him

hard, but grabbing blessings where he could get them, Caleb was thankful the man wasn’t up for

holding his wad very long. But even so, his granite cock slamming into his raw inner caverns brought

tears to Caleb’s eyes and hurt like hell.

Afterwards, Brock fell on the bed and passed out, condom still clinging to his cock, the tip of

the rubber bubbled out with a load of cum. Caleb showered again and went into the other room and

turned the tv on low, then curled in the corner of the sofa, a heaviness in his chest he couldn’t put

down. He buried his face in his arms and the tears came against his will. Samuel’s face lingered

behind his eyes. His chest tightened, memories of Samuel assaulting him. I miss you. He shoved his

face harder against his arms and cried. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m sorry.

He didn’t know he’d fallen asleep until Brock woke him. Darkness pushed at the windows,

the glass glittering with the city lights. Caleb sat up slowly. Brock was freshly showered with the

scent of shampoo wafting off him.

“I’m not handling this case for free just so you can sit around and watch television.”

“You were…asleep.” Caleb rasped thickly, sleep clogging his throat.

“I’m awake now.” He said. “Get up. I’m in the mood for some…entertainment.”

Caleb crawled off the sofa, knowing what the man wanted. They walked back into the

bedroom and Caleb took out the red G-string, stripped down and pulled it on, his movements stiff and

slow. He glanced at Brock as the man went to the netbook, turned it a little, then stripped down to his

boxers and grabbed a high-backed, armless, cushioned chair and placed it a little in front of the tall

bureau on which sat the netbook. Brock took a seat, his back to the netbook. “Dance for me, little

whore.”

It seemed to bring him pleasure to call Caleb a whore, as if the filthiness of it turned the guy

on. Caleb turned on some music and began to go through his routine, forcing his body to curve and

sway gracefully though it hurt to do so. He straddled Brock’s lap, dipping his crotch low to rub

against the man’s hard cock pressing out against his boxers.

Brock ran his hands up Caleb’s outer thighs and groaned as he clutched his hips. “Look into

the camera.” Brock moaned and slid his hands around to squeeze Caleb’s ass. His ass cheek was

bruised from earlier and hurt immensely when the man clutched it hard. “Show me how much you’re

enjoying this. Give me a sexy, dreamy look.”

Was he fucking serious? Caleb did his best put on a face of pleasure as he snaked his body up

and down Brock’s torso, rubbing down against his crotch and up again. Then the man’s hand was

palming his cock, squeezing, working him through the G-string.

“I want to see how much you love it when I suck your cock.” Brock murmured quietly and

tugged down the front of the underwear. Caleb gripped the back of the chair and stared at the tiny red

light as Brock took his cock in his mouth and sucked him. Just do what he says. At least he isn’t

hurting you at the moment. Caleb let his eyes close part way as the sensations raced through him, his

cock hardening inside the guy’s hot mouth. He pulled off him momentarily and whispered, “Moan for

me…tell me how good it feels…how much you love to have your cock sucked by a real man.”

He took him back in deep and stroked and sucked with more urgency. Caleb clutched at the

back of the chair, his jaw tightening. “Yes…oh god, that feels good.” He struggled not to choke on the

words when he added, “It feels so good to be sucked by a real man.” Brock paused and whispered

another command. Caleb forced the tears back as he moaned loud and fucked the guy’s mouth, back

arched though it caused a pain to stem through his shoulder blades. “Oh fuck…you’re the best I’ve

ever had…I can’t wait for you to fuck me so good.”

And when he took him to the bed, Brock continued to give him whispered commands—as if he

didn’t want his voice on the video. Perhaps in re-watching, it would create the feel that Caleb was

saying these things of his own free will, thus boosting the man’s virile ego. And in making Caleb fuck

him back as if it were the most pleasure he’d ever received—was the man so delusional that in

playing back the video, he would actually believe that Caleb found him to be a phenomenal lover?

Chapter Fourteen

Heat of the Night

“Lights out!” The guard’s voice echoed through the cell block, his heavy boots clanking along

the catwalk. The overhead lights in each cell went out, followed by the echoing clack of cell doors

locking.

From out in the darkness came the occasional low cough, quiet murmurs as inmates spoke to

one another back and forth through the bars. When Nick was locked down for the first time, it had

reminded him of a dog pound. And the fact that some of the inmates actually did howl only reinforced

the imagery.

Nick gazed at the bottom of the upper bunk. All was silent on top. Had Christian fallen asleep

waiting for lockdown? Or possibly changed his mind about the poker game and so pretending to be

asleep? Nick wouldn’t push it. Chris may not have been as serious as Nick had wanted to believe—

The top bunk creaked as Christian rolled over and hung his head down over the edge and

looked at Nick through the darkness. Nick could barely make out his face. “So?” He could hear the

grin in Christian’s quiet voice. “Is the game still on?”

Nick propped on his elbows. “Oh hell yeah.”

Hopping down quietly, Christian sat on the end of the bunk as Nick grabbed the small book

light he’d purchased with some of the money Caleb had sent him. He clipped it to the underside of the

top bunk and clicked it on. It provided adequate light for their purposes but didn’t reach out of the

cell.

He shuffled the cards again, being as quiet about it as he could, then began to deal out the

cards on the blanket between them. Nick gathered his cards and sifted through them. It was a decent

hand. If he was lucky, he might get to see some skin tonight.

A smile twitched Christian’s lips as he arranged his cards in his hand. “You’re so going

down.” He murmured, then raised his eyes and that mischief gleam was back.

Oh baby, Nick groaned inwardly, I don’t mind going down. Not one bit.

“I was thinking…” Christian started.

“Uh oh.” Nick smirked, then nodded. “What?”

“How about we just play one hand.” He smiled wryly. “Winner takes all.” He winked. “Loser

bares all.”

Nick had to admit he loved this kid’s ideas. “All right.” Nick murmured. “I think I can do

pretty well with this hand.”

“Hmm.” Christian smiled then pressed his lips tight. “We will see.”

The game progressed and Nick worked on building his full house. Christian sobered and

adopted the classic poker face, which made it impossible to tell if he was securing a great hand or

not.

“I call.” Christian said suddenly and looked at Nick. “Show me what you got.” His lips

twitched with a sexual undertone.

Nick laid down his cards. “Full house, aces high.” He felt pretty confident in his hand. Not too

bad, if he did say so himself. He smiled at Christian smartly. “Beat that, baby.”

Chuckling low, Christian nodded. “All right.” A slow grin cut across his lips and Nick knew

he was fucked. “I will.” He spread out his cards on the blanket. “Consider yourself royally flushed.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Nick stared at his hand. “You cheated, I know you did.

One more hand.”

“No way.” Christian laughed softly. “I won, fair and square.” He flicked his fingers. “Hand

them over.”

Groaning, Nick stared at him. The guy wasn’t fooling—he totally expected Nick to strip

naked.

* * * *

The windows of the second floor apartment were dark, as expected. Samuel knew Caleb

would be gone overnight, but he couldn’t resist the drive by, on the perchance he’d changed his mind

and caught a late flight back. What would he say to him about working in a strip club? He couldn’t

exactly imply he was okay with the idea of Caleb stripping and dancing for horny men. But he knew

that to try and force him to quit would only push the guy further away.

You’re acting as if he’s still your boyfriend. He dumped you.

Samuel shook his head slowly and sighed, pressing on the gas pedal and moving on down the

street away from the apartment building. He didn’t believe Caleb really wanted him gone. He

wouldn’t just let it go without an explanation. And even then, he couldn’t imagine any reason being

enough to stand back and let the guy walk out of his life.

“Caleb, baby.” He murmured as he slowly worked his way through the streets back to his

place. “Just hurry and come home, and let’s talk this out.”

Back in his house, in his own bedroom, Samuel lay on his bed and held his cell phone. He

didn’t want to push Caleb, but would a simple I Miss You text message be considered pushing? He

needed even just that much contact with Caleb, some kind of a connection, or he would go crazy.

He refused to allow himself to type more than I Miss You into the message and sent it quick

before he relented and sent multiple messages of I love you. Can we talk? Please come back to me.

Once the text was sent, he quickly laid the phone aside, not really expecting a reply, but

unable to prevent himself from hoping.

* * * *

The t-shirt slipped off his head and he tossed it to Christian. The kid’s lips were pressed tight

with a smile as he absently fingered the shirt but kept his eyes on Nick.

“You’re really sure about this?” Nick murmured, his fingers paused on the clasp of his pants.

The boy nodded, his lips relaxing into a more pronounced smile.

“You know.” Nick muttered low as he opened his pants. “When you first walked in here, I

thought you were some shy, innocent angelic creature.”

Christian shifted and leaned back against the end of the bunk. “What changed your mind?” His

smiled strained with amusement.

Unzipping his pants, Nick cocked an eyebrow. “I can’t imagine what possibly changed my

mind…as you sit there and watch me get naked.”

Christian laughed softly, and even with his sly suggestions that were now removing Nick from

his clothes, he still saw the boy as that angel—still sweet, and even innocent to some degree. There

was no denying he had inner strength to him, but there was also a softness about him that made Nick’s

arms ache like mad to hold him. And those tender lips…with the sweet, shy, teasing smiles…god, he

just wanted to kiss that mouth and never stop.

Sliding out from the bunk, Nick stood and shoved his pants down his legs then tugged them off

his feet. He balled them up and tossed them at Christian, smacking him lightly in the chest. The kid

grinned and hugged them loosely along with the t-shirt. “Keep going.” He said softly, and his voice

had a sudden roughness to it that raked delightfully over the surface of Nick’s skin.

The book light, though small, was enough to highlight the bulge in Nick’s boxers. He couldn’t

remember the last time he’d been this turned on, if he had ever been this turned on. His thumbs

hooked in the elastic waistband and hesitated as he gazed at Christian. The look in the boy’s eyes,

slightly shadowed by the dull light, let Nick know this wasn’t a game anymore. And Nick was fine

with that.

Are you really going to let yourself fall for this kid? What if Coulson does get you

released? What then? You just gonna walk away and forget about him?

Nick was pretty sure he should’ve thought this through, but knew it was too late for that now.

But even so, he continued to hesitate. “Christian….” He swallowed hard, holding the boy’s eyes.

“I’m sure, Nick.” He whispered.

His heart pounding, Nick slowly slid his boxers off his hips then down his legs, never taking

his eyes from the kid as he stepped out of the underwear and kicked them aside. His bare skin

prickled beneath Christian’s soft but heated gaze.

The boy smiled. “You’re beautiful, Nick.” He stood up, dropping Nick’s clothes on the bunk,

then stepped close to him. His breath was quick, movements hesitant. “Can I…touch you, Nick?” he

whispered unsteadily.

For whatever reason, Nick wanted to cry and his eyes began to sting. “Please.”

The boy tentatively pressed his fingertips to Nick’s chest and let them slide lightly down over

his hard stomach, which jumped and quivered beneath the kid’s touch. His member twitched and

hardened, the head bumping gently against the fly of Christian’s pants. There was no mistaking the

boy’s own arousal.

A shaky breath escaped Nick when Christian touched his lips to his chest then moved slowly

up to his throat. Nick rubbed his hands up the kid’s arms then cupped his neck and lifted his face,

taking possession of that heavenly mouth. A soft moan slipped up Christian’s throat and he gripped

Nick’s waist, pushing against him.

Tugging the kid’s shirt up, Nick peeled it off his head and let it fall to the floor then rubbed his

hands down his back, basking in the warmth of his soft skin and lean, firm muscles.

Christian moaned again, holding their kiss as he unfastened his pants. Nick sat him down on

the bunk and the kid left the remainder of his clothes on the floor as he let Nick draw him deeper into

his bed. They slipped beneath the blanket and Nick moved over the top of Christian, kissing his lips

then down the line of his jaw and the center of his throat. The boy’s fingers pushed into his hair, his

body pressing up against him, his erection stiff and rubbing firmly against Nick’s hard member.

“You are so beautiful, Christian.” Nick groaned and sucked his left nipple, causing the kid to

gasp softly and arch to him. “My god, you’re perfect.” He kissed down the center of his stomach, lips

slipping over the gentle ripple of his abdomen. The muscles twitched and quivered beneath his kisses

then jumped when he sucked at his naval.

“Nick….” Christian trembled and twisted his fingers through Nick’s hair, holding on with

mild desperation.

Nick moved lower, kissing every inch of skin along the way, caressing the boy’s hips and legs

as they slid open wider. He ran his fingers up the underside of the kid’s cock, gently pushing it up

against his lower stomach as he began to lick the full length of the shaft.

“Uuhh….” Christian gasped and he gripped Nick’s head tighter. His moans turned to

whimpers and small cries as Nick left not one centimeter of cock un-kissed, un-licked, un-adored.

“Nick…oh god….”

His mind was spinning, hardly able to believe this was really happening, that Christian was

even really here. But his soft pleasurable cries and warm body convinced Nick that the kid was real

flesh and blood, and aching for him to make love to him in every way.

Nick licked away the juices seeping from Christian’s cock then sucked the firm head between

his lips. The boy bucked a little and pressed his lips tight, stifling a loud whimper. A hard breath

burst from him and he began to pant softly as Nick took him in deeper, squeezing with his lips as he

slowly slid his mouth down his shaft.

“Fu…fuck…Nick….” Christian trembled, body tense, rigid. Nick sucked him slowly, moving

up and down his thick, hard length until the boy was shaking and pushing his cock into his mouth on

his own.

Nick caressed his legs and stomach as he sucked him a little harder, a bit faster. He knew the

boy wasn’t going to be able to hold out much longer, and knew if it had been Christian’s mouth on his

cock, he would’ve likely lost it in seconds.

“Nick….” Christian choked on his panting breath. “I’m…I’m gonna….”

Sucking him with more urgency, Nick let him know it was okay—and urged him on.

A series of soft, sharp—Uuh! Uuh! Uuh!—puffed forcefully off his lips, then he bit his lower

lip to try and quiet himself, but couldn’t stifle the whimpers pushing out. He clutched Nick’s head, his

hips lifting, thrusting as Nick took him deep, again and again.

“Oh god! Nick…fuck!” Air sucked down his throat and his body locked up, arching hard and

unloading.

Nick groaned and swallowed his warm juices, sucking for more until the well was empty.

Christian lay unmoving, trembling, his muscles quivering, twitching all over his heated body. Nick

pushed up over the top of him and kissed his lips softly. The boy latched onto him with his arms and

kissed him back, hard. “Please take me, Nick.” He shuddered, tears welling in the corners of his

eyes. “Make love to me.”

Chapter Fifteen

Prying Eyes

The buzzing vibration of his cell phone brought Samuel awake with a start. Before sleep had

even let go, his hand shot out and grabbed the cell off the night stand, nearly dropping it to the floor as

his fingers hadn’t quite woken up.

He managed to hold onto it and rubbed his eyes as the words blurred on the glowing display.

He blinked to clear away the sleep residue and the name came into focus. Caleb.

His heart began to pump with force and his hands trembled a bit when he flipped open the

phone. He hesitated then clicked on text message and stared at the words illuminated in the darkness

of the bedroom. Leave me alone, Samuel. I don’t miss you. I don’t love you. I don’t want you. Stay

out of my fucking life. You’re nothing to me.

Tears were rolling down his cheeks before felt the sting in his eyes, his heart crashed and

burned. No…Caleb wouldn’t say that…would he ? Samuel choked on a sob and snapped the phone

closed then threw it away from him, chest heaving. “What did I do?” he cried. “What the fuck did I

do? Why won’t you tell me?!”

He shoved his face in his pillow and cried, clutching fistfuls of the softness. What happened,

Caleb? Why are you doing this to me? I know you loved me. I know you did, dammit!

Samuel lifted his head and wiped at his face then sat up. He leaned on his knees and dropped

his head in his hands, choking on sobs, tears slowly dripping off his face. “I don’t care what you say.”

He whispered thickly. “You’re going to fucking explain to me what happened.”

He left the phone on the carpet where it landed and walked out of the bedroom. The large

house was dark, quiet. His dad was gone overnight on a business thing, and his mom…no doubt in a

valium coma. Though they liked to put on airs, Samuel at times suspected that his dad’s business trips

involved more than legal work. And it wouldn’t surprise him if his mom had the occasional

rendezvous with the cabana boys at the country club. Not that any of that mattered to him, their

personal lives were of no concern nor interest to him. But his own was and Caleb’s text was like a

rusty knife sawing through his heart muscle.

Until Caleb returned, he couldn’t confront him and attempt to make him talk. And dawn was

still hours away—with no hope of sleep in sight. He walked down the second floor hallway, the thick

carpet pressing softly between his toes, the dim baseboard lights creating a glowing path.

He descended the wide staircase to the first floor. Since he couldn’t sleep, and didn’t want to

think about Caleb, perhaps work would provide the proper distraction. He had no interest in

defending Lawrence Dawson, but working on the case would give his thoughts someplace to go other

than Caleb.

His dad kept backup files of all his clients and cases in his home office. The Dawson file

would be in there. With his dad away, he had no qualms about simply using his office as well.

Through his computer, he could log in to the firm’s database and get his notes and information he’d

cataloged earlier that day.

Large file cabinets extended the length of one full wall. His dad believed in keeping hard

copy files, rather than depending solely on digital backups. Just because the guy was a prick, didn’t

mean he was stupid.

Samuel looked up the Dawson file and took it to the large polished oak desk and sat down. He

opened his dad’s laptop and waited for it to turn on while he began arranging the papers from the file.

When the desktop showed up, he went to open the browser when he noticed a tiny icon down in the

corner; his online cloud storage. A blue circle was spinning, indicating that it was updating.

Ignoring it, Samuel opened the browser and typed in the firm’s web address. His eyes flicked

back to the icon. His dad wouldn’t be uploading case information to the cloud; that was a site he used

for storing personal items. Samuel stared at it thoughtfully; what kind of stuff did his dad have in his

private files? Pornography? Samuel chuckled low—didn’t everyone? But it might be interesting to

see what types of fetishes Mr. Holier-Than-Thou got off on.

Shit, if I want to eradicate my thoughts—this’ll do it. Samuel clicked the icon then opened

the linked folder to the online storage. Multiple files came up, all labeled in code that made no sense

to him. He clicked on the first one which merely contained photos of various casual business affairs,

Brock and his colleagues relaxing on vacation retreats and such. Samuel closed that file and moved

on to the next.

This one contained video files as well as an encrypted subfolder. The video clips were just

more of Brock and his colleagues. Samuel stared at the encrypted folder. “What’s in there?” he

murmured. “Why did you lock that one up tight? Hmm? Is that where you keep all your dirty videos?”

Samuel had no clue what password his dad would’ve used. But it did occur to him that he was

on his dad’s computer, and could possibly decrypt the folder under the guise of his dad’s identity.

Thoughts of the Dawson case forgotten, Samuel went about working through the maze of

gaining access to the folder.

* * * *

The boy’s skin was hot to the touch and slick with a thin layer of sweat. Nick kissed his neck,

then sucked gently, drawing a soft moan up Christian’s throat. Tense fingers went into Nick’s hair,

squeezing lightly, both young men breathing quick, ragged as their crotches rubbed together slowly.

The kid had just come, but he was quickly gaining substance again as Nick’s stiff cock massaged him.

He found the boy’s mouth and kissed him with passion, their tongues wrapping around one

another. Nick broke the kiss long enough to spit into his palm then reach down and coat his hard shaft.

He gripped himself as Christian gazed into his eyes and lifted his hips. Nick stroked his fingers

through the boy’s hair then kissed him again as he guided the tip of his cock to his tight entrance.

Christian tensed and Nick hesitated. “Don’t stop.” Christian trembled against his mouth. “I

want you, Nick.”

“I want you too, Chris.” He grabbed at his lips, sucking softly, and slowly, carefully pushed

himself into the boy. Christian sucked in a sharp breath and gripped the back of his neck, body

tensing, arching.

“Uuhh!” he buried his face in Nick’s shoulder, breath quickening as Nick squeezed more of

his cock inside. “Fuck….”

Tucking his arms around Christian, Nick held him tight, face pinched with sweet sexual

tension and pressed against the boy’s neck as his hips pushed forward and his member went in all the

way. “Fuck…Chris….” He gasped hard, unsteady. “Oh my god, baby….”

Christian trembled in his arms, clinging to him, breath puffing against Nick’s shoulder. “ Fuck

me, Nick…please…I want you so bad.”

His body ready and willing to grant the boy his every wish, Nick tightened his arms and

slowly worked his cock in and out of Christian’s velvet cave.

“Oh god, Nick….” Christian whimpered and grabbed onto his shoulder with his teeth,

panting. “You…you make it feel so good .” His short nails dug into Nick’s back and his supple body

began to move with Nick’s rhythm, his breath coming quicker, sharper, small cries bursting out across

Nick’s heated skin. “Yes, Nick…oh god…don’t stop….”

Nick’s hands flattened against the boy’s hot, damp back, holding him secure as he fucked him

with renewed urgency. “Oh god, Chris….” he shuddered erratically, his teeth grabbing at the kid’s

neck, jaw, ear. His pace intensified, his cock hard as steel and his balls tight and burning with the

need to empty. He squeezed Christian in his arms, he couldn’t get the boy close enough to him. The

kid’s body burned hot beneath him, and it seemed they were melding together as they pressed tighter

to one another. “Oh fuck, baby…I wanna come…I can’t wait….”

Christian moved against him quick and urgent, fucking him back with equal intensity, breath

puffing, panting, bursting out of him. His body began to arch and his head tilted back, shoving down

against the pillow as his hips thrust against Nick with force. Fierce hardness gripped the boy’s cock

between them and wetness seeped out of him. He was going to come again, Nick could feel it in the

tightness and tension of his body.

“Nick!” he choked out then tried to bite off his cry, stay quiet, but he was going over the edge

and he couldn’t control it. “Fuck me, Nick! Fuck me!”

His cock whipped in and out of the guy’s tight body, his heart racing wildly, breath exploding

from his throat as he rocked them urgently on the bunk. His fingers gouged into Christian’s back as his

balls burned then forced the cum up through his shaft. “Fuuuck!” Nick wailed and shoved his face

into Christian’s shoulder to muffle his scream as he fucked the boy hard and fast.

“Nick! Oh fuck! Fuuuck!” Christian’s body went rigid, his muscles flexing, tightening, as a

sudden rush of liquid heat squirted onto their stomachs between their compressed torsos. “Uuhh!!”

Christian clawed his back and fucked him wildly as his orgasm coursed through him.

“Shit!” Nick choked hard and bit the pillow next to Christian’s head to stifle another scream

as his back bowed and hips slammed forward, and he unloaded inside the boy. A strangled whimper

wrenched out of him as he thrust at him hard until he was finally empty and the orgasm began to

gradually release its hold.

Nick slowly loosened his crushing hold on Christian then kissed him, letting it linger and

deepen. He turned them onto their sides and caressed the boy’s back with soft strokes. Christian

gazed at him, a new kind of light behind his eyes. “Thank you.” He whispered, breathless.

Smiling, Nick kissed him softly. “For what…exactly?” He murmured.

“For making love to me before….” The boy hesitated.

“Before what?”

His voice strained with emotion as he whispered unevenly, “I’m not…stupid, Nick. I know…I

know what happens in places like this.” His chin trembled and he pressed his face to Nick’s throat. “I

know what’s going to happen to me. What…the others will do to me.”

Nick wrapped his arms around him again and hugged him close. “Don’t talk like that, Chris.”

He whispered against his hair. “I won’t let that happen.” He lifted his face and kissed him deeply,

then slid his thumb over his cheek. “I promise.”

Tears filled Christian’s eyes. “Don’t promise, Nick.” He touched his face. “Don’t put that on

yourself. Sometimes…things happen whether we want them to or not. Don’t make promises that will

fill you with guilt when you can’t keep them.” He hugged Nick and closed his eyes, tears sliding

down his face. “Go home, Nick. Get out of this place and…be with your brother. I’m…I’m not your

responsibility.”

Nick’s arms tightened, lips pressed to the boy’s hair. Tears rose up and blurred his vision as

he stared distantly at the picture of Caleb taped to his wall. What do I do, little brother? How can I

just walk away and leave Chris in here alone?

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” Nick whispered as Christian trembled in his arms. “I

promise.”

* * * *

Using the advanced properties option, Samuel went through the process of authorizing access

to the subfolder. Somewhere deep in the back of his mind, he was asking himself why he felt so

determined to see what was in the folder. But he knew it was more so the distraction of trying to get

into it that held the appeal, than what he might actually find there. Right now, anything to deter his

thoughts from Caleb was worth his time and effort.

When the folder finally unlocked and opened onscreen, he discovered another collection of

video files, again titled in code. He didn’t know why his gut tightened when he moved the cursor over

the first file, but it was suddenly twisting into knots. Why did he care what his dad had videos of?

Even if the guy turned out to be a perv—what was that to him?

He groaned with annoyance at himself and clicked the file. The video player program opened

and a security camera recording came up. There was no one in the shot, just a still of a shower, the

camera looking down from the ceiling into the shower itself. His brow pinched. Why did this look

familiar-

“What the fuck?” Samuel breathed and leaned closer, eyes narrowing. That was his private

shower. His pulse quickened when he noticed sudden movement outside the frosted shower doors,

then the door slid open and Samuel stepped in, naked. His breath rushed through his nostrils as he

watched himself turn on the shower and begin to wash himself. “You sick motherfucker.” Samuel

hissed. The shower scene was short as he washed then stepped out. He started to click it off when it

jumped to a shot of his bedroom—with him emerging from the bathroom stark naked, rubbing his

body down with a towel.

Again, the camera seemed to be shooting from the ceiling area. He studied the angle of the

shot and realized it had to be up near the light fixture. His lips tightened in rage, jaw clenching—the

motherfucker had been watching him? After all his pious talk about fags—and he was fucking getting

off on watching his own stepson get naked?

“You motherfucking hypocrite.” Samuel’s hands squeezed into fists and he had to force

himself not to punch the fucking screen. A creepy sensation rushed through him at the thought that his

dad had been watching him all this time. Did he have videos of him jerking off? Those must have

been extra special for the bastard.

He clicked the video off then stared at the list. Specific code titles began with an S, including

the one he’d just opened. Did the S stand for Samuel? To test his theory, he opened each file

beginning with S. And every one was shots of his bedroom, shower, and even the pool outside. He

often swam nude in their home pool, and apparently he’d been recorded doing that as well. In one or

two, he’d even had a guy with him—and they hadn’t been shy about their fucking, some of it

performed outside the pool, giving the camera a clear shot.

Nausea began to infiltrate Samuel’s gut. It wasn’t that it bugged him so much to be seen like

that, but the fact that he was being secretly watched—by his homophobic stepdad of all people. He

might have found it amusing in a sense, if it wasn’t just fucking creepy.

Feeling queasy, and not sure he wanted to know what else he had in there, Samuel

nevertheless opened one of the other files. His eyes widened in shock as he watched his dad instruct a

young man, who couldn’t have been more than nineteen or twenty, to undress. Then the boy knelt

before him and began to give him a blow job. Brock fucked the guy’s mouth a little too hard, gagging

him a bit, then stood him up and bent him over the bed and went to fucking him hard, almost furious.

Occasionally referring to him as a whore or a slut. There was no hesitation in the man when he’d

shoved his cock in the guy’s ass. This wasn’t a first time.

“You are one sick motherfucker.” Samuel murmured sickly and clicked it off. He sat back in

the chair, still feeling the creeps of his dad’s prying eyes. His skin crawled a little and he shuddered.

Did the man fantasize about doing to Samuel what he’d done to that other guy in the video? His

stomach turned when he imagined his dad sitting right here in this chair beating off to the videos of

Samuel. “Ugh!” He jumped up from the chair and shuddered again. “Fucking pervert!”

When he noticed a file at the bottom of the list updating, he leaned on the edge of the desk and

watched the upload time. It was almost finished. Was the man uploading from another location? Is

this what he did on his business trips? The room in the last video looked like a hotel suite. Was he

with another young guy right now?

The upload completed and Samuel stared at the video file. His hand shook a little as he

touched a fingertip to the touch pad of the laptop, slowly moved the cursor over the file, hesitated a

moment, then clicked it open.

What he saw onscreen ripped the strength from his legs and dropped him to his knees. His

head spun and his vision blurred instantly as he watched the young man in the video give Brock a

seductive lap dance, pleasure emanating from his face as he rubbed all over the man’s crotch. Then

Brock took him to the bed, stripped off his skimpy underwear—and proceeded to fuck him in every

position while the guy praised his prowess as a lover and begged him to—‘Fuck me harder!’

Samuel fell back away from the desk, his back hitting the wall, eyes wide, tears rushing down

his cheeks as Caleb looked right at the camera, eyes heavy with sexual ecstasy, moaning with

pleasure as he told Brock—‘You’re the best fuck I’ve ever had.’

-END-

Follow Caleb’s story in the last book

UNBROKEN

Caleb, Book 3

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Born and raised in scenic Coos County, Oregon, CJ enjoys the small town atmosphere and down-to-

earth country folk who populate the area. She is a single mother and lives with her 18-year-old

daughter, 1 horse, 4 dogs and 6 cats deep in the country woodlands which gives her plenty of time to

write.

She is a Christian and a strong supporter of the LGBT community and favors gay erotic romance when

it comes to writing. She hopes that her stories of love and acceptance will help further compassion

and understanding for LGBT people who she feels is greatly misunderstood and persecuted – in a

large party by the Christian community.

Most of all, she is hopeful that her stories will bring comfort to those who have been told that God

hates them because they are different. It is her strong belief that God loves everyone and His love

covers all.

Connect with CJ online:

Facebook.com/AuthorCJBishop