Cut and Run 07 Touch & Geaux (37 page)

Zane ran his thumb over Ty’s cheek, seeing him suddenly with new eyes. Ty had never tried to be something he wasn’t. He’d never tried to hide what he was. Warrior. Weapon. Bad guy. Zane knew what he was. The pain and betrayal faded. The world faded.

Ty turned his face under Zane’s thumb and kissed his palm. Zane raised his hips, pushing his cock against Ty’s thigh.

“Zane,” Ty moaned, lowering his forehead to Zane’s shoulder and flexing his back and hips to keep the wildly arousing rhythm going. “I need you.”

Zane didn’t answer. He knew Ty needed him, could feel it in the very air they breathed. He pressed his nose and mouth against Ty’s cheek, clenched hard at Ty’s shoulder and hair, body writhing beneath Ty’s. His cock slid against hard muscle and soft skin. Ty’s cock drove against his hip and stomach, pressing against his.

Ty bit down on the curve of Zane’s neck as he shoved a little harder against him, and a jolt went through Zane’s body. Ty hummed against his skin until it degenerated into a low growl. The rocking stopped, shifting into a more sinuous, deliberate pressure.

“Oh Jesus, Ty,” Zane gasped out.

Now
he needed Ty inside him. It felt like he’d stuck his finger in a light socket, electricity zigzagging through him wherever Ty touched, settling deep in his belly, coiling. Ty knew exactly what he was doing to him and exploited it mercilessly, egging on the pleasure racking Zane’s body with a violent kiss. Zane bucked his hips as Ty’s tongue lapped at his. Ty grasped Zane’s hands, lacing their fingers together, slid them under Zane’s head until their chests touched, and pinned them to the mattress. Zane’s body was completely at Ty’s mercy.

Zane forced his eyes open and found Ty’s as he surrendered all control to him. He trusted him, despite everything, despite trying to convince himself he couldn’t. He trusted Ty with his body. He always had. He trusted Ty with his heart. It was his very soul that Ty had the power to break.

Ty captured Zane’s mouth in a kiss.

Sensation overflowed for a brief, shining moment. Ty’s lips against his. The warmth and weight of his body, the way he felt between Zane’s thighs. The sensual rocking of his hips, their cocks sliding, leaking. Then it all came crashing down. He arched his back, squeezing Ty’s hips, groaning Ty’s name into their kiss, his entire body spasming and tightening as his orgasm crashed over him. Ty didn’t let up, didn’t pull away, still rubbing against him, sliding slick now between their bellies.

“Zane,” Ty growled against his ear.

Zane was still gasping for breath, sensations and emotions washing over him in a jumble. He panted against the skin of Ty’s neck, unable to do anything more than inhale his scent.

Ty released Zane’s hands and pushed himself to his knees. Zane grabbed him by the shoulder. “You’re not done.”

Ty leaned over him to kiss him again. He reached between them, swiping one hand down Zane’s slick abdomen and cock, stroking down to Zane’s thighs and urging them apart.

Zane let his knees fall to the sides, spreading his legs wider. Ty kissed the inside of Zane’s knee, then crawled backward. He left the bed and went in search of one of their bags, leaving Zane to try to regain his breath alone.

When Ty returned, he crawled between Zane’s legs and ran his tongue along Zane’s stomach. Zane lifted his head to watch, fascinated as Ty licked his cum from his abs.

“Ty,” he gasped.

Ty knelt, running his hand through Zane’s cum, spreading it across his stomach. Then he added a generous amount of lube to his palm and used that hand to grip his own straining cock. Zane pulled one leg up and rolled over onto his stomach, inviting Ty to take him. Ty gripped one of Zane’s hips and moved in close, wasting no time pushing in.

Zane’s fingers dragged across the sheets. Ty’s hand found his and he laced their fingers together, clenching as he pushed in deeper. Once he was as far as he could get, he laid his body out over Zane’s, kissing Zane’s shoulder, enveloping him in strong arms. His breathing broke into sharp pants.

“Come on, Ty,” Zane panted, rolling his hips just enough to spur Ty into action.

Ty pressed his face against Zane’s back, groaning, kissing his skin. He pulled most of the way out before thrusting in again with a ragged curse. Zane gasped, arching. Ty tortured Zane with that incredible slow slide of his cock several more times, his breaths in Zane’s ear, before he lost control and shoved in deeper.

Zane would never enjoy anything more than Ty taking him from behind. His chest pressed into the mattress, Ty’s lips at his ear. The way Ty held him close, found his way into Zane’s very soul.

Ty pulled Zane’s hips up, curling until he could reach to tease at Zane’s mouth with his tongue, trailing the taste of his cum along swollen lips. His hand slid over Zane’s shoulder, closing over his chest, hugging him close.

There was nowhere to go, nowhere to run from the intimacy or the pleasure. And Zane didn’t mind one bit.

When Ty moved again, it was a steady rolling of his hips, and he didn’t relinquish Zane’s mouth. More kisses, more intensity, faster rocking, harder thrusts . . . the thrill echoed through them as Ty held on tight. Zane managed to gasp out Ty’s name through the kiss, urging him on, begging him. Ty never sped up his motions, though, just continued to thrust in, rocking in time with Zane’s panting breaths.

Finally, he buried his face against Zane’s shoulder and gasped, choking out Zane’s name. His body locked up and he shoved in deep, shaking all over but still rocking as he climaxed.

Zane closed his eyes, drinking it in, sharing it with his lover. He shifted his hips and arched his back in an attempt to extend the pleasure.

Ty sagged over him, struggling for air, but each time he got half a breath, his chest caught and an aftershock tore through him. Zane could feel it echoing through Ty to himself.

After several long moments, Ty pulled out of him with a sound that was almost a sob and collapsed at his side.

Zane lay where he was, unable to move even if he’d wanted to. He snaked a hand across the short distance between them and slid his fingers into Ty’s. Ty’s hand closed around his with a gentle squeeze.

“I just need to be able to trust you, Ty,” he whispered.

“You can. I swear you can. I’d die for you, Zane.”

Zane’s heart was in his throat as he studied Ty’s profile. “I know.”

Ty had a handful of cartridges laid out in front of him, some the .40 caliber rounds for Zane’s Glock, and some the high-powered, armor-piercing monstrosities that loaded Liam’s sniper rifle. Ty wished they could have found less deadly ammunition, but this was all they had to work with.

He had converted three of Zane’s shots to blanks, though having done it without the proper equipment they might still pack a little bit of a punch. He’d taken the bullet out, leaving nothing but the charge, and packed them with newspaper to seal the powder in the case.

That wad of newspaper would come out like any other projectile, and the muzzle blast would still be powerful. It wouldn’t kill him, though.

He was just finishing the round that Liam would be firing at him, creating a makeshift hollow-point that should expand and break up when it hit the resistance of the vest. He cut the hollow of the jacket to weaken it so it would expand like a flower on impact, rather than penetrate deeply. Without the vest, the sharp petals of the flower would slice through flesh two to three times the size of the original bullet.

If Liam missed, it was going to be ugly.

He lifted his head as Liam stepped into the room. The man looked around at their preparations, an eyebrow raised.

He stopped in front of Digger and Owen. “What in God’s name is that?”

“Ketchup. And some other stuff,” Digger answered. He and Owen had spent all morning filling quart bags with the concoction. “Barbecue sauce, Crisco. Chocolate powder and water.”

Ty’s nose curled as the list went on. It sounded like something Digger would cook and serve at home.

They put enough of the sauce in each bag to let them remain slim when sealed and flattened. Then they duct-taped the bags to the outside of the Kevlar vest.

Liam picked up one of the bags and squished it. “Marines are disgusting.”

“Hey,” Owen grunted.

“I have to agree right now,” Nick said. He had a quart tub of Crisco and had been mixing it with diaper cream and chocolate powder to make face paint. The diaper cream had an especially unpleasant smell. “We’re putting this on our faces.”

Liam shuddered and poked at the vest Ty would be wearing.

“What about the back?”

Digger shrugged. “We got no way of doing that without wiring Ty with some small explosives.”

“Fuck no,” Ty said immediately.

Liam snorted. “It’ll have to do.”

The vest itself was white, made to look like a T-shirt beneath other clothing. It reduced one layer, but with the Kevlar and the slimy bags of fake blood, Ty’s mobility would still be cut down. He wasn’t meant to be mobile, though; he simply had to stand there and die.

His stomach tumbled with nerves and he wiped a hand over his face. “Did you scout the location?” he asked Liam.

Liam sauntered over and sat opposite him, nodding. “I have a nice little nest all set up on—”

“Don’t tell me where,” Ty interrupted. “If I get nervous, I’m afraid I’ll look at you.”

“Okay. There’s graffiti everywhere, so I put a big black X on the pavement where you’re meant to stand. Try to get as close as you can to it, yeah?”

Ty nodded. He picked up the bullet he’d just finished and held it up for Liam to see. “Hollow-point round.” He held up another, one he hadn’t messed with. “Armor-piercing round.” He waved them together. “Do not get these mixed up.”

Liam chuckled, then leaned closer, sighing heavily and meeting Ty’s eyes. “Tyler, if I wanted you dead, I would have done when it was easy to kill you.” He plucked the fragmenting round from Ty’s fingers. “We have no way of marking it.”

“No. Any etchings on the outside will fuck with the spin. Hell, I’m even afraid to mark it with a Sharpie.”

Liam was humming, turning the bullet over. He clutched it in his hand, then patted the back of Ty’s neck, pulling his head to press their foreheads together. Ty closed his eyes. Months of their time spent together in arid camps in Kabul and damp training installations in the south of England came back to him. He’d trusted this man.

“You did this for me once,” Liam murmured. “It’s time I return the favor.”

Ty nodded, swallowing hard.

Liam’s voice dropped lower. “And if you want to stay dead, I’ll always be a call away.” He released Ty and stood.

Ty sat back, eyes still closed as he fought for calm. He felt Liam moving away. The front door opened and snicked shut again, and just like that, Liam Bell was gone.

Ty took a deep, unsteady breath and glanced up.

Zane was standing in the bedroom door, watching him. “You okay?”

Ty nodded.

“I’m about to make the calls,” Zane said. The activity in the room died down, everyone stopping to look at Zane. “Is everyone ready?”

Ty looked around, taking in the faces of the men he’d called his friends, the men he’d loved like brothers and spilled blood for. And then Zane. The only man Ty had ever truly given his heart to. If there was anyone to make a last stand with, it was the men in this room.

“We’re ready.”

Zane sat astride Liam’s Honda Shadow, a bandana with a menacing skull printed on it pulled over his face. Ty sat behind him, his hands looped over Zane like a seatbelt, tied at the wrists. They had a pillowcase over his head, a large smiley face drawn on it.

“Trust me,” Digger told him. “This is New Orleans. Nobody’ll bat an eye.”

“Let’s kick it, Garrett,” Ty said in Zane’s ear.

Zane didn’t waste more time with goodbyes. He gunned the bike away from the house, winding their way through the streets toward the hulking wasteland of Six Flags New Orleans.

The noise of the motorcycle signaled their arrival, and that was exactly how Zane had wanted it. All eyes on them. The front gate of the park had been cut and left ajar, and Zane used the bike to plow through it. He came to a halt in the park entrance, stunned by the shape of the place.