OVERTIME (20 page)

What seemed like a lifetime later, but was probably only about forty-five minutes, he knew there was a pretty damned good chance that he was in serious trouble. He’d made it back to Duvall Street and the action hadn’t slowed down a bit. People walked the streets, laughing and making out in front of everybody, and the general population appeared to be about as drunk as he was; they were just holding their liquor better. While they looked to be having a kick-ass time,
he was pretty sure he was losing the battle to not to curl up and die somewhere. Yeah, curling up and dying seemed like the best damned idea he’d had in a while. He could find the airport tomorrow; tonight he would just find a place to hide away and try to sleep off his drunk.

“Hey, handsome! Where you headed?” A sassy voice asked him as he walked past a bar he’d noticed earlier when he’d been out seeing the sights with Colton as they’d made their way to Island House. Jagger barely glanced in the direction of the voice, just kept walking, searching for a hiding place. Once properly hidden, he could wallow in self-pity and puke his guts up all he wanted.

His escape was blocked when the body that belonged to the voice stepped into his path. The persistent dude obviously didn’t have a clue he was about to be showered in puke if he didn’t move away. Of course Jagger couldn’t help but think the bastard had it coming for being so damned persistent when all he wanted was to be left alone. He tried to stagger around the man but found his escape blocked. He really didn’t have the time or sanity to deal with this shit right now.

“Easy, baby. I just asked you a question is all; no need to run away like a scared little rabbit.”

Jagger looked into the face of the man blocking his path. It was actually a pretty significant accomplishment considering how his world was spinning off kilter, but as soon as he focused in on the hungry gaze, he wished he hadn’t done it. The man, not quite as big as him but solid muscle, was looking at him with a wicked gleam that sent alarm bells blaring in his drunken mind. He tried to shove away again when another body, this one much bigger and much more intimidating, plastered itself against his backside, sandwiching him between the two men, and stopping any form of escape he might have been planning. Their smells and heat overwhelmed his senses, nearly causing him to lose the little bit of liquor still sloshing around in his gut. The outline of a thick cock bumped against his ass and instead of getting turned on like he did whenever Colton was near him, this touch pissed him off.

“Get your fucking hands off me,” he slurred out, giving another shove that did absolutely nothing to budge the two men he was wedged between. When he felt the man behind him pull both his arms behind his back and hold them imprisoned there, he really started getting pissed…and worried. He knew he was way too drunk to fight off two men if they intended to mess with him; especially men that were at least his size, one bigger.

“Calm down, sweetness,” the voice behind him drawled slowly. “We just want to have some fun. I bet you do too. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”

“Yeah, baby, you know you want to have some fun,” the guy in front of him said. “Where are you from? I’m picking up on a sweet southern twang, and I’m fucking loving it. You talk real slow; is that all you do slow…or do you like it fast and hard?”

“I bet this sweet thing likes it fast and hard,” the guy from behind answered.

“I bet this sweet thing wants you to back the fuck off before I punch your fucking faces,” Jagger threated, knowing he couldn’t land a punch if his very life…or virginity, depended on it.

“What’s going on, boys?” A familiar voice asked, interrupting the Jagger sandwich, he hoped.

“Just having us some fun, Rory,” the guy in front answered with a smirk. “We found him first so I think you’d better move along.”

“Yeah, better luck next time,” guy in back added. His grip on Jagger’s wrists tightened. “Don’t worry, though, we’re going to take it to someplace more private. We know how you feel about these outward displays of affection.”

“Did you two idiots happen to know you’re playing with something that belongs to Colton?” Rory asked in a deadly voice, using the same threat he’d pulled out while they were partying at the Island House. His dark eyes glittered a warning as his gazed danced between the two men. His stance was completely laid-back, but it wasn’t hard to notice how absolutely predatory he looked at the moment.

Jagger felt the two men immediately shift their bodies until inches separated them. They didn’t completely move away, but Rory definitely had their undivided attention. He would have stepped away, ran into Rory’s arms like a complete and total scaredy-cat, but the bigger man still had his arms clasped behind his back, holding him in place. The thought of them touching him was beginning to overwhelm in and he felt a panic attack coming along at a high rate of speed.

“You’re messing with us, aren’t you, Rory? Colton doesn’t play around. If this toy really belonged to him, he wouldn’t have let him out of his sight,” the man in front said, but his eyes still looked worried. It was pretty apparent neither man wanted to cross Colton if it wasn’t necessary.

Rory arched a brow and looked directly at Jagger…who had the decency to look ashamed. Fuck, he’d decked Colton and left he knocked unconscious on the deck of his boat. Wasn’t he
just a jewel? On top of that, he was pretty sure he smelled like vomit. How desperate were these guys if they wanted to mess with a guy reeking of vomit?

“I’m kinda
wondering about that myself, boys, but that answer will be for another time. This pretty thing belongs to Colton and I know he isn’t interested in sharing. The best thing you mates can do is step aside and hope Colton never hears how you man-handled his Wildcat.”

The word Wildcat did it—sent them scurrying away, practically shoving Jagger into Rory’s arms. “What the hell, man? Why the fuck didn’t you say something?” The bigger guy demanded. Jagger ignored the question, choosing, instead, to stare at Rory, hating the accusatory glare that was being directed at him. Rory knew he’d done something to Colton…knew he’d hurt him somehow.

When Rory saw Jagger wasn’t going to respond, he motioned for the two men to move along. “You boys need to learn that ‘leave me the fuck alone’ means ‘no’. Don’t let me hear about something like this happening again. Key West is a safe place for everybody, tourists and locals, and we don’t need fuck-ups like you two ruining our reputation.”

When they were finally alone—well, as alone as they could be on Duval Street, even at two am, Rory turned his full attention to Jagger. “Tell me that Colton is safe,” he demanded harshly. “Cause him being dead or injured is about the only way I see you being out here without him by your side.” He leaned in close and said, a bit louder this time, “Where the hell is my friend,
cher
? The man that has been in love with you for-fucking-ever! What have you done?”

Shame washed over Jagger. Rory was wrong; Colton wasn’t in love with him, but he still didn’t deserve to be sucker punched and then left alone, unprotected and possibly unsafe. Fuck! Still drunk, but not quite as drunk as he was when he’d left Colton passed out cold, Jagger hated himself for what he’d done. “He’s…he’s on his deck. I punched him and ran away like a fucking girl. He’s alright; I checked to make sure he was just passed out. He was waking up when I left. Fuck, I shouldn’t have touched him.” He swiped his hand over his mouth, hating the feeling of nausea that was starting to wrap around his guts and climb up his throat. It wasn’t going to be enough that he’d punched Colton and left him alone and almost gotten himself raped by two men…no, that wasn’t enough for him. He was going to have to wrap it all up with a puke-fest that would go down in the history of
pussiest pussy of them all.

Rory crossed his arms over his massive chest, an odd expression on his face. Jagger had the feeling he was about to get punched…but it was going to be a lot more deadly than what he’d hit Colton with. Seconds passed and Jagger felt himself start to shrink in size.

“Are you sure he’s alright? You checked? How do you know he doesn’t have some kind of bleeding on the brain or something?” Rory demanded, but most of the anger seemed to be slipping away—a hint of humor beginning to dance in his sexy gray eyes.

“He’s fine. No blood…not even a knot. He was waking up. I promise he’s fine,” Jagger answered. Why couldn’t Rory at least stop the world from spinning wildly before raking him over the coals? He was pretty sure he was probably about to kiss the pavement any second now.

Rory burst out laughing. “How did you sneak one in on him? Colton’s one hell of a fighter, takes all sorts of karate and jujitsu shit. I can’t believe you got the jump on him.” Rory wrapped his arm around Jagger’s shoulder and, thankfully, offered him some physical support. The ‘no touching’ rule would be enacted again tomorrow—tonight he needed help staying upright. “Dude you are totally taking the playing-hard-to-get to a whole new level!”

“Can you please just take me to the airport?” Jagger asked, trying to sound as pitiful as possible. He really needed to get the fuck out of this town. Colton was bound to be awake and hunting for him now. He couldn’t face him again…couldn’t handle more rejection.

“No, I most certainly will not take you to the airport!
Merde
! You think I want Colton coming after my ass?” He started tugging him toward the bar. “Let me grab Tobias and then we’ll head to my house. Once there, we’ll call Colton, give him one hell of a hard time for letting you deck him, have him to come over, and you boys can kiss and make up. Everything will be fine, I promise, little
cher
,” Rory told him, the huge mocking smile still plastered on his face. Rory was weirdly fun to be around. He would slide in and out of his Cajun talk. At times, he talked perfectly normal. Other times, he was pure Cajun. Colton had explained he did the Cajun shit when he was trying to impress somebody. Jagger understood that, it sounded sexier than hell.

Oh, shit. The cell phone.

Jagger figured right about now was probably a good time to tell him he’d chucked Colton’s cell over the railing, but then decided against it. He’d do about any damn thing to buy himself some time—time away from Colton. Maybe Riley would find him and rescue his pussy ass?

By the time they pulled into the driveway in front of what Jagger assumed was either Rory or Tobias’ ginormous house, he thought there was a small chance he was starting to sober up…but there was a huge chance he was still going to puke his guts up through his throat passage. When Rory helped him stand up, he figured he might have about five minutes max before the right of passage went terribly wrong.

“Easy,
cher
, don’t move too fast,” Rory ordered in a voice that was probably normal but it sounded like Minions talking to Jagger. “Got any thoughtful explanations as to why Colton isn’t answering his cell,
bebe
? You promised me he was safe and sound. He is, isn’t he?” Worry had started to darken his eyes each and every time they’d dialed Colton and Colton hadn’t answered.

Jagger rolled his eyes…which wasn’t his best move; it only made his world sway in a swirly direction. “
Ehhhh
…I might have tossed his cell overboard.” He gripped Rory’s forearm to try and steady all the swaying and swirling. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I did; tossed the fucker right overboard.”

He heard Tobias laughing somewhere behind him. He was so glad he could be some comedic entertainment for all of Key West. So far, that’s about all he’d been fucking good for.

“Colton is never going to live this one down,” Tobias guffawed. “I seriously will never ever let him forget this one. First his true love knocks his ass out and then tosses his cell so he won’t even be able to call for reinforcements. You know the dude is going absolutely nuts right now, right, Rory?”

“That was very naughty of you, Jagger from Kentucky. Why you want to hurt your sweet
cher
that way? Was he not loving that beautiful body of yours the right way?” Rory was teasing him as he tried to lead him toward the front door. The house was a huge Victorian with Gingerbread woodworking everywhere and he was pretty sure it was pink with white trim…or he was drunker than he realized. He squinted. Nope, it was pink. He frowned at the poor paint choice, wishing for Rory’s sake that it had just been that his drunkenness had led to him being colorblind.

“He won’t touch this body of mine,” he murmured, shocking himself and Rory. “I guess I’m not good enough, probably too poor or dirty. Who knows? He flirts, leads me on, and then shuts my shit down if I act the least bit interested.” He knew he was blushing from head to toe as he made the admission out loud. Hopefully he wouldn’t remember the first thing about this in the morning.

Rory jerked to a stop and looked at him like
he
was the fool that had painted a three story monster of a house bright pink. “Why are you lying to me,
cher
? I know how badly that boy wants you. If he isn’t giving you what you need, there has to be a reason for it.”

An idea popped into Jagger’s head…a really stupid idea that made absolutely no sense whatsoever, but he just had to know. It was driving him insane. Hell, he was flat-ass drunk. If there ever was a time for it, it was now
…

He jerked Rory toward him and sealed the deal by slamming his lips against Rory for a hungry kiss. He tasted the bigger man, licking and sucking, nibbling and exploring, forcing his tongue right inside Rory’s mouth and did a dirty little dance. He gave it everything he had, used the same tricks Colton used on him. His hands explored Rory’s thick muscles, starting with his intimidating pecs and finishing with his firm ass. Rory didn’t exactly fight him, but he definitely wasn’t into it. Didn’t matter; he had to know. Hell, he was used to the person he was trying to seduce not wanting him—been there, done that.