The First Three Rules (18 page)

Ellis dropped his head back against the pillow and waited for Jon to do whatever. When nothing happened Ellis picked his head back up. Jon had his hand cupped and was rubbing his fingers against his palm..

“Warming this up.”

When Jon seemed satisfied, he ran his fingers across Ellis’s opening. He jumped.

“Still too cold?”

“No, it just feels weird.”

The length of Jon’s strokes shortened until he was only working across Ellis’s opening. The light pressure, the tender touch, it was more than just pleasant. Ellis found himself pushing closer, rocking in time with Jon’s movements.

He kissed Ellis’s thigh. The smile Jon wore was gentle.

He pushed a finger against Ellis’s hole. On reflex, he clenched his ass cheeks. Jon paused.

“Sorry,” Ellis said. “I just…”

Jon kissed his thigh again. “It’s okay.”

“I’ll try to relax.”

“Actually, I want you to push a little.”

“Push?”

“Trust me.”

It was easier than spreading his legs. Jon’s finger tip breached Ellis’s opening. He fought the urge to clench and lost. Jon stopped again and sat back on his heels. His cock jutted proudly out in front of him.

“How long can you do that?”

“What?”

“Stay hard.”

“It’s easy when you’re enjoying something.”

Jon might have been enjoying himself, but there was no way he wasn’t hurting. The thought made Ellis try harder. He pushed again. Jon’s finger slid all the way in. Then he shifted around until he was almost on his stomach. Jon kissed the patch of skin above Ellis’s cock and then his balls. He was only half hard when Jon took him into his mouth. With every bob of his head, he moved his finger in and out.

A new kind tension curled through Ellis’s body, setting his nerves on fire. He clawed the comforter.

Jon changed the angle of his thrusts and a burst of static shot down Ellis’s legs, igniting a super nova inside him. The tingling in his skin sank into his muscles and scattered his thoughts. Black spots danced before his eyes.

He writhed trying to get away, trying to get closer. Everywhere Jon touched Ellis made his blood boil.

“Jon…” Ellis struggled to breathe. “Jon please…” Ellis gritted his teeth and hissed.

“Do you want me to stop?” Jon withdrew his finger to the tip. The loss made Ellis want to scream.

No. No. No. Ellis shook his head.

Jon plunged his finger back in and put his mouth back on Ellis’s cock. A few seconds later his opening burned, but the momentary discomfort only stoked the raging inferno inside him higher. Ellis dug his heels into the mattress and lifted his body. He wanted more. He needed more. But the words refused to form.

Jon continued to work him and Ellis met Jon thrust for thrust. Wherever it was Jon had taken him, embarrassment no longer mattered.

The sweat soaking Ellis’s skin did nothing to cool the fire Jon created.

“Ellis, look at me.”

He didn’t remember closing his eyes.

“I’m going to add a third.”

Third? When had he done two?

“You ready?”

Ellis could only moan. The dull burn returned, but it was so far away, it no longer mattered. Ellis panted, not caring that he sounded like some sort of animal.

The weight in Ellis’s balls slowly returned, along with the tingling rush. He strained to push himself over the edge.

Jon’s fingers disappeared and Ellis sobbed. “Don’t stop. Please, Jon. Please, don’t stop.” He was so close. Painfully close.

“I’m not stopping.” Jon hovered over him, balancing on one hand, the other between his legs. The pressure returned to Ellis’s opening. He pushed like he did before and Jon growled into his neck. “That’s it. Just like that, Ellis. You’re doing good.”

The stretch and burn was different this time. There were no pauses, just the continuous sensation of being invaded. Jon’s cock reached far deeper than his fingers, and the fullness made it difficult to breathe. Just when Ellis was sure he couldn’t take any more, Jon’s balls rested against his ass.

Jon lifted Ellis’s legs, one after the other, and put them high on his hips. Ellis scrabbled for something to hold onto and wound up with one hand on Jon’s forearm, the other in his hair.

Small whimpers ticked out of Ellis and Jon drank them from his lips.

“Jon…” Ellis pulled on Jon’s arm. “Please, move. Please, do something.”

“Give yourself a minute to adjust.”

Ellis shook his head. He could never adjust to this, he didn’t want to. The ecstasy pushed him toward delirium. “Please…oh, please.”

Jon gave one slow stroke. Ellis buried his cry against Jon’s neck. Again, Jon withdrew all the way to the tip then made a slow re-entry. Any minute, Ellis would be torn apart by the storm brewing inside him.

Jon’s thrusts increased until he set up a steady rhythm. His ragged breathing joined the slap of their bodies. Sweat dripped off his nose onto Ellis’s cheek.

“More…” The word was out of his mouth before he could stop it. Jon complied, putting more force behind each pump of his hips. A tremor grew in his arms, making his entire body shake.

It wasn’t long before the small grunts Jon made became barks of pleasure. He shifted his weight, changing the angle, putting pressure on Ellis’s prostate. He threw his head back and fought the scream trying to escape. His cock pulsed and wet heat smeared between their bodies. It added an earthy richness to the scent of clean sweat and male musk.

Jon’s low, lean growl joined in and he curled over Ellis, pushing one last time, somehow going deeper than before. The muscles in Jon’s hips rippled against Ellis’s calves. The contraction from Jon’s cock echoed through Ellis’s insides.

Ragged breathing filled the room. Jon slumped.

The joints of Ellis’s hips protested with a sharp pang.

Jon sat back and his cock slid free, leaving Ellis empty. Jon removed the condom and climbed out of bed. He wrapped his towel around his waist and stepped out of the room. He couldn’t have been gone long, but Ellis missed his return. Jon was just suddenly there, warm washcloth in his hand, gently cleaning the cum off of Ellis’s chest and stomach. Every so often, Jon would place a kiss on Ellis’s shoulder. When he was done, he dropped the washcloth on the floor. Jon moved Ellis around until he had the covers pulled back and over them.

With the euphoria gone, Ellis’s heartbeat pounded the side of his face and jabbed the backside of his eye.

Jon cupped Ellis’s chin and traced his lip.

“Thank you,” Jon said.

Why was he thanking him? Jon had been the patient one. The one who’d suffered until Ellis had the courage to follow through. The one who did all the work. Ellis shook his head because the words wouldn’t form.

Jon kissed him on the forehead. “One day, I’ll explain. For now, just go to sleep.”

Ellis did.

The building on Oak Road began life as a meat processing plant. Today it served as a rendezvous point. Lukas Franke was a ten year veteran as Michael Beck’s right hand. A man currently wanted in five different countries for human trafficking.

Lukas caught wind of a rumor that Michael had plans to replace him, and since there was only one way out of this line of work, he’d opted for a retirement plan in the form of handcuffs, testimony, and witness protection. Definitely not a condo on the beach, but at least he’d live.

The seventy five year old building stood on the bad side of town, near the docks. Years of storms blowing off the ocean broke most of the windows and eroded the brick.

Alex parked beside the dumpster and the detectives pulled up beside them in a sedan. The driver turned off the car and the two men put their heads together.

Alex got out and so did Jon. His partner tipped his head in the direction of the detectives. “What do you suppose they’re talking about?”

“Who knows?” Jon shrugged. “Maybe they’re trading dating tips.”

“Think so?” Alex rubbed his chin. “Maybe I should get some advice.”

“You’re married.” Jon shut his door and so did Alex.

“All the more reason to get tips. You can never have too many tricks up your sleeve when trying to lure your wife to bed.”

“Has it occurred to you the reason Terry doesn’t feel like sex is because every time you’ve had sex she gets pregnant? Hell, she’s pregnant now.”

“Not every time.”

“Thank god. We’d be drowning in Kennedy clones.”

“Screw you.” Alex held up a hand. “Never mind, I take that back.”

Jon laughed. “Wise man.”

“At least you don’t have to worry about getting pregnant or getting anyone pregnant. I’ll tell you what, Jon-boy, kids are not what they’re cracked up to be.”

“Call me Jon-boy one more time and you won’t have to worry about any future offspring.”

“You keep making promises you don’t keep.” Alex clicked his tongue. “No wonder things could never work out between us.”

“Shut up.”

The doors on the sedan opened.

“Looks like our distinguished guests have decided to join us,” Alex said.

Jon knew the two detectives were going to be trouble when the tall one said, “First things first. This collar is ours, not yours.”

Alex gave Jon a sideways look. The sparkle in his partner’s eyes said he was trying his damnedest not to laugh. Jon held up his hands. “We’ve already been briefed.”

The skinny redhead said, “So, who’s who?”

“Marshal Alex Kennedy.” Jon nodded at his partner. “And I’m Marshal Jon Foster. Which one of you is Benny?”

“That’s Detective Benny Franco, Marshal.”

“Yes, sir.” He looked at the redhead. “So, you must be Detective Thomas Cruise.”

Thomas laughed. “We’ve got ourselves a genius here, Benny.” They headed toward the entrance of the building. “Good thing the marshals didn’t come alone, probably would’ve got lost trying to find the door.”

The smile stayed on Alex’s face, but the light in his eyes turned cold.

“Don’t,” Jon said. “It’s not worth it.”

“I don’t know. I get a lot out of instant gratification.”

“You got ten kids to think about at home.”

“Four, Jon-boy. Learn to count.”

“Well, maybe they just move so fast they look like ten.”

“Can’t argue there.” Alex followed the two detectives. “Better hurry. Don’t want to piss off Detectives Franco and Cruise. Jesus, with names like that, they could be cartoons.”

“I told you to play nice.”

“They started it.”

Jon and Alex joined the detectives in a large concrete room just inside the door. Both men wore wide, toothy grins.

“So,” Benny said. “Which one of you pitches and which one catches?” He pegged Jon with a look. “Something tells me, built like an ox or not, you’re the one who likes it up the ass.”

Thomas laughed. Then he and Benny disappeared down a hall.

“Can I kill him now?” Alex said.

“Not worth the paper work.”

“My gun could have a misfire and take out a knee cap.”

“Even more paperwork.”

“How can you stand to let him talk to you like that?”

“I’m used to it.”

“Still not right.”

“Of course, imagining him in drag and doing the nasty with a sheep, helps.”

Alex choked on a laugh.

Jon smiled. “See, works every time.”

The hall they entered was darker than the front room. Metal lined the walls and the floor had a slight slope. Jon had no idea what this part of the factory had been used for, but it smelled of sour milk and pennies.

They caught up with Benny and Thomas again in a second room. Strips of tattered plastic covered the doorway.

“Keep lagging behind and we’ll have to put leashes on you two,” Benny said.

Thomas snorted. “He might like that, seeing what he is.”

Jon scanned the room and the exit. To the detectives, he said, “You know, I’m starting to feel like you two are hitting on me.”

Both men quit smiling.

“Where is this guy supposed to be?” Alex said.

Thomas jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Probably in the main bay. He’d want to hide his car and there’s a roll up door just outside the room.”

“Probably?” Jon said.

“Yeah, probably. He’s either there, or he cut and run.”

“How many ways in and out does this building have?”

“No need to worry, Marshal Foster. He has no intentions of fucking this up.”

“I’m not worried about him fucking up. I’m worried about getting shot.”

“Not fucking up includes not throwing bullets around.”

Benny held back some of the strips and waved a hand at the doorway. “Ladies first.”

There were at least two more sections, each divided by more strips of age frosted plastic. It made it impossible to see ahead.

“Is there another way in?” Jon said.

“Why?” Thomas said.

“Limited sight, tight space. Not exactly the best set up.”

Thomas sneered. “Are all you marshals this paranoid?”

Benny barked a laugh.

Jon drew his gun and fell back a few steps.

“Are we going to kill them now?” Alex drew his.

“Just keep your eyes peeled.”

Three layers in and the cloudy shape of a massive open space with high windows swam beneath the plastic. The hairs on the back of Jon’s neck stood up. He put a hand on Alex’s arm.

“You’re making us look bad, Jon.”

He didn’t care. The plastic blurred the details of the room. But there was enough light to make out the catwalk edging the far wall and the stacks of wood pallets lined up against the railing.

“Wait,” Jon said. The two detectives looked back. “Why are those pallets stacked like that?”

Benny looked up. “What?”

Jon pointed.

“You’re kidding, right? This was a meat processing plant. Lots of deliveries in and out. That means a lot of wooden pallets.”

“Don’t worry, marshal,” Thomas said. “We’ll make sure you don’t break a nail.”

The scent of burning tobacco made Jon’s eyes water.

“I hope Mr. Franke doesn’t plan on chain smoking in the back of the car,” Thomas said.

Benny jerked his chin up. “I see him.”

The silhouette of a man stood beside one of the large windows. White smoky trails from a cigarette danced in front of him.