Severe Side Winds Ahead Read online

  He’d survived mostly by begging and petty theft.

  Luckily, after barely six months on the streets, that petty theft had brought him his savior – Connor Braddock.

  After he’d become an undercover mercenary for his new, adopted father, some of the missions had been uneventful and some had been brutal - he’d been beaten, tortured, held prisoner for almost one hundred days. Just, a lot of bad.

  But the one thing that got him through all of that, the one thing that kept him holding on to hope through all of his darkness? Was knowing that Cole was in the world and that he loved Kelly.

  But now….maybe he didn’t.

  Because of those assholes and what they had done.

  And they’d gotten away with it too.

  That was maybe the worst part.

  Well, that and the fact that Kelly had never told Cole that he was in love with him and that he’d known all along that Cole had a thing for him. Hell, did Cole really think he’d been asleep when Kelly would press his hard dick between Cole ass cheeks and Cole would jerk off? Fuck, it took everything Kelly had not to yank down his pajama pants and shove his dick inside Cole’s hole the way that Cole so obviously wanted him too. And he had wanted it too. So fucking much. But if he had his father would’ve known. There would’ve been no way for Kelly to hide his feelings for Cole once he had him like that, no fucking way. His dad would’ve seen right through that shit and he would’ve hurt Cole. He would’ve hurt Cole to hurt Kelly.

  So, he couldn’t tell him. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t. But he loved him. That had never changed. He still loved him.

  Before he couldn’t be with Cole because it would’ve put Cole’s life in danger.

  Now he couldn’t because Cole hated him, blamed him for what happened to him.

  Sometimes life was a cruel, fickle bitch.

  He pressed his foot down a little harder on the accelerator. Getting off the flight during the layover in Kansas City had been impulsive, yes. And renting a car to drive the rest of the way? Also, impulsive.

  But necessary.

  Was he going completely off-grid?

  No, he didn’t think so.

  His plan was to contact the team in Denver once he arrived, at least he told himself that was his plan.

  But working alone was so ingrained in him, so much a part of him now that didn’t know if he could do things any other way, hence part of the reason for ditching the second leg of the flight and getting a car to drive the rest of the way.

  Could he have called to let everyone know that’s what he was doing? Yeah. But he needed time to think, and to figure shit out. And he couldn’t do that if his phone was blowing up with calls from angry people wondering where in the fuck he was.

  So, he’d call when he got there….or when he was ready….or….. “Fuck!” he barked out into the silent interior of the car. He knew he was fucking up with his dad big time. But this was Cole, Cole, damn it!

  He growled as he pressed the Bluetooth button on the satellite radio and told it to “call dad.”

  His dad answered all cool, calm and collected even though Kelly knew he was anything but, “Hello, son.”

  “Hi, dad.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Driving.”

  “So, you got off the plane in KC?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “I needed to think.”

  “You know you can think when you’re on a plane.”

  “No, I can’t, there’s too many people around me, it’s distracting.”

  “So, you’re not heading off to do this on your own?”

  Kelly pursed his lips as he contemplated his answer.

  “Son?”

  “I don’t think so dad but I really don’t know.”

  “Son?”

  “Yeah?”

  “If you do this you’re out. You won’t find him. They’re going to put him into protective custody.”

  “What? You can’t! If you do that, you’ll have to tell him everything, you’ll have to tell him that we know about the article, that we know what happened.”

  “Yes, we will son, but you’re leaving us no choice. You’ve become….unstable.”

  “Fuck. Dad, don’t, please, just don’t. I’ll, I’ll call them, okay? I’ll work with them, I swear. Just please, nobody but me, okay? Nobody but me.”

  “Thirty minutes, son, you’ve got thirty minutes. If you don’t call them by that deadline, we’re picking him up.”

  Kelly scrubbed a hand over his face.

  “I’ll call, dad, I promise. And thanks.”

  “Anytime, son,” Connor said then he ended the call.

  Kelly had no doubt that Drake’s men were now locked onto his cell phone, tracking his movements, and that was fine. If he decided not to call he would be ditching his phone anyways.

  He had a few more miles left to think.

  He was going to use every single one of them.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Blake pulled up to the panel at the gate in front of the sprawling house, well, fuck that, mansion that Tiny had led him to.

  “This is your place?” he said.

  Tiny snorted a bitter laugh, “Imagine that, big, ugly biker dude has bank.”

  “Don’t be an asshole. You don’t look like a typical rich dude so I’m allowed to be surprised. And you’re not fucking ugly, far from it.” That last part was spoken as a sneered whisper as Blake turned his head to look out the window, almost as if Blake was pissed that Tiny was good looking…and was that a blush on his cheeks?

  Tiny grinned.

  “Color me chastised. I apologize, Blake.”

  “What’s the code?”

  Tiny smirked, “You sure you don’t want me to reach across and punch it in for you?”

  Blake squeezed his eyes shut and closed his fingers tightly on the steering wheel, so tight that his knuckles turned white before opening those peepers and pinning Tiny with a look that would’ve brought him to his knees if he had been standing. “Let me make this crystal clear, Mr. Murphy. My job is everything to me. It’s my life, my heart, my blood, my soul. There are rules that come with my job. Rules about never, ever getting involved with a witness or a defendant or an informant. I do not break those rules, I will not break them, not ever, for anyone. Am I clear?”

  Tiny swallowed hard as he stared at Blake because not many men intimidated him, not many men scared him and got his heart pounding in his chest. But Blake Thornton did, but not in an ‘oh shit he’s going to hurt me’ kind of way. Nope, it was in a ‘dear god, take me, pound me, fucking own me’ kind of way…and now his dick was rock hard in his pants. But if he moved his hand to it, if he brought Blake’s attention to it in any way, he knew it would only piss the man off more.

  And a small, sadistic part of him wanted to do just that.

  Instead, he somehow managed to maintain his control, nod his head once and whisper, “Very clear, Agent Thornton,” then he told the man his code.

  The second Blake’s head was turned, though, he was pressing on his dick, trying to move that fucker away from his zipper before it was bleeding.

  Tiny Murphy spent years suppressing his true sexuality while he was in the motorcycle gang. On the few times that he did let it out, far from home and in small, gay bars or dingy motel rooms, he was a top, through and through. He usually picked small twinks that he could tower over when he took them. Never even considered anything else, not once.

  Until now.

  Now, all he could think about as they drove up to his six-car garage, was Blake Thornton towering over him, tearing his clothes off, pinning him down and shoving his dick in Tiny’s ass so hard he’d feel it for days.

  “Fuck.”

  “What?” Blake said.

  Oh shit, had he said that out loud?

  “Uh, sorry, just thinking about shit, park this on the far right,” he said as he reached up to push the button to open the door.

  Shower, ye
ah, he needed a shower right now.

  And to beat off a time or two…..or six.

  As they walked into the house, Tiny barely took the time to show Blake where anything was. Just waving his hand with a, “Kitchen’s over there, help yourself. Guest room is first door on your left. You have your own bathroom. I’ll be back. Need a shower,” as he pulled his shirt over his head. He dropped it to his bedroom floor then he somehow managed to get his boots unlaced and shoved them off, yanked open his pants as he walked into the bathroom to start the shower then said, “Fuck it,” turned and gave his throbbing dick a few pulls while he thought about a certain sexy agent and shot his load all over the sink and counter.

  Then he stared down at his dick for a few seconds while he tried to catch his breath.

  His still rock-hard dick.

  Rock hard because it still wanted stubborn fucking Agent Blake Thornton.

  “Fucking hell,” Tiny muttered as he shoved his pants off and started the water. This was going to be an epically long shower…..

  *********************************************

  Blake frowned as he looked around the kitchen. He thought it was kind of odd that Tiny had just run off like that. He pulled open a few cupboards until he found the glasses and then filled it using the filtered water on the front of the fridge. As he turned, taking a sip as he did, he almost spit everything all over the counter because there was Tiny, emerging from the hall and into the sun drenched living room, shirtless, his dark brown hair wet and shining from an obvious shower, the tattoos decorating his shoulders, his arms, his torso and his back a mocking temptation that silently shouted at Blake, ‘touch me, read me, learn me, trace me with your tongue,’ and then there was the elephant in the room. Literally. The hard cock jutting out behind the flimsy material of Tiny’s grey sweatpants. It had to be the biggest cock Blake had ever seen, or not seen but fucking wanted to, he realized with a growl as he forced his eyes away. “What the fuck, man?” he said between choking and wiping his hand over his mouth.

  His eyes moved back to Tiny, who was standing with his hands on his hips, staring down at the aforementioned giant erection, “Yeah, about that. Fucker doesn’t seem to want to go away and I’m hungry so, well, we’ll just have to work around it.”

  Blake snorted a laugh, “You’re going to need longer arms to reach the counter.”

  Tiny’s eyes snapped up to Blake’s and he grinned, “Did you just make a joke, Agent Thornton? A joke about the size of my dick?”

  Blake’s blush filled his cheeks, “Maybe,” he mumbled.

  “Good one,” Tiny said as he picked up his phone, “You’re probably right about my dick getting in the way though so I’m just going to order pizza for dinner. You got a preference on toppings?”

  “Just no mushrooms. I hate those slimy things. I prefer lots of meat.”

  Tiny’s eyes snapped up to Blake’s and a smirk spread across his face. Blake’s brain played back the words he had just said and he almost groaned. Seriously? I prefer lots of meat?

  “Lots of meat it is,” Tiny said as his fingers typed over his phone then he set it back down on the coffee table.

  “Pizza will be here in thirty,” he said.

  They both stared at each other for several long, awkward, silent seconds until Blake said, “Do you need to go to the doc for that or what? I mean, what’s up with it? Can’t you, um, take care of it?”

  Tiny looked down at his dick, “I did. Five times.”

  “F-f-five times?” Blake said with a gasp.

  Tiny’s eyes moved back up to look at Blake, “Would’ve been six but I ran out of hot water. Like I said, the damn thing won’t go down.”

  “What caused it?”

  “You did,” Tiny said.

  To say the change that came over Blake was noticeable would’ve been one of the biggest understatements of all time. In less than a second, Blake’s face went from smiling to red and furious with anger. Like so fucking pissed that Tiny actually was momentarily afraid for his life, since the man currently glaring at him was no doubt both carrying a weapon and also trained to use his hands with deadly force. But that thought also turned him on even more than he already was. There was that thought of Agent Blake Thornton overpowering Tiny Murphy and just taking what he needed, fucking owning Tiny as he plowed into his ass, again. Son of a bitch, he thought as he squeezed his eyes shut and glanced down again because, yep, he was now sporting a big wet spot on the front of his sweats right at the end of his dick and he knew without a doubt that seeing that would piss Blake off even more.

  He slowly moved his eyes back up and….

  Fuck.

  Tiny was tempted to run into his bathroom and lock the door.

  Because Blake’s eyes were laser-locked on that wet spot and Tiny would swear he could see steam coming out of Blake’s ears. The man was strung so tight that his neck was corded, his nostrils flaring as he took deep breaths in and out and if Tiny could see the man’s hands he was certain he would see them clenched so tight the knuckles were white.

  Suddenly Blake’s eyes tore away from Tiny’s body. He marched over to his bag, yanked the zipper open, dug around inside then stood back up with his tablet in his hand. Then he stomped over to the dining room table, chose a chair that would have his back facing the living room, pulled it out, sat down and fired up his tablet.

  Tiny ran his fingers through his hair as guilt flowed through him. He didn’t know why his body was reacting this way to Blake and he couldn’t help that it was. But he still felt bad that it was obviously messing with Blake’s head.

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled as he turned to sit on the couch.

  The second the words were out though, Blake’s shoulders went up and the man’s entire body went stiff, almost as if the sound of Tiny’s voice was affecting him.

  Blake didn’t say a word though. He just breathed out a heavy sigh as he tried to relax and continued typing.

  No talking? At all?

  Tiny sighed as he leaned his head back on his shoulders and closed his eyes.

  He wanted to hope for a quick end to this assignment, he really did. But that would mean no more Blake Thornton.

  And even though the man currently refused to look at or talk to him, he wasn’t sure if he wanted that.

  He wasn’t sure if he wanted that at all…..

  Chapter Fourteen

  Morgan’s fingers drummed nervously on Caleb’s kitchen table. His gut was churning from having consumed too much coffee and nothing else. He was tired from not sleeping. He was worried about Noah. And he missed his fucking husband.

  That was the worst part about being here on standby….being away from Luther all night.

  He used to do these things – all-nighters, stakeouts, overnight protection duties, hell, even overnight watch when he was on duty – all of them he did with no problem. Sometimes two, three nights at a time with little to no sleep and he barely felt it.

  But now? Being away from Luther, even for just one night?

  He felt like his own skin was too small for him, like he was suffocating.

  Suddenly his phone pinged with an incoming text.

  Luther: Even breathing hurts without you here…

  Tears filled Morgan’s eyes because, damn, this man got him, he fucking got him.

  His thumbs hovered over his phone as he tried to come up with the words that he needed to say…because I love you just wasn’t even close.

  Before he could type though, his phone rang. He slid his thumb across before the first ring had finished.

  “Where are we at, Drake?”

  “If Kelly doesn’t call you within thirty you’re a go.”

  Morgan looked at his watch and then set the timer for thirty minutes, “Okay, I’ll wake the others and have them ready. I take it you heard from him?”

  “He got a car in Kansas City. Said he needed to clear his head while he drove.”

  “And you bought it?”

  Drake chuckled, “Ser
iously, Morgan? Did I really just fall off the turnip truck?”

  Morgan smiled at that, “Okay, then what are you doing?”

  “We’re tracking his cell and so far, he’s kept it on and is still heading in your direction. But we gave him thirty minutes to contact you and if he doesn’t, he’s done, he’s out. No second chances.”

  “Got it. So, if he doesn’t call but he still shows up, do you want me to take him into custody?”

  Drake was silent for a few seconds, “Let’s cross that bridge if it happens, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Morgan knew what Drake and the team were dealing with, he’d dealt with guys who had gone off the deep end both when he was in the service and with his company. It sucked and it wasn’t easy. It was never easy.

  Suddenly his phone vibrated with another call.

  “Hey Drake? I’ve got another call coming in. I’m going to take this and I’ll call you back.”

  “Got it,” Drake said and then his call ended.

  Morgan tapped his phone to answer the call from the unknown number, “Morgan Doyle,” he said.

  “Uh, yeah, this is Kelly Braddock. I was given your number?”

  Morgan could be an asshole since this guy knew he was putting a horrible strain on everyone around him, but that wouldn’t build trust, would it? And trust was something this guy obviously needed. Trust and support.

  Morgan took a deep breath and sighed it out slowly as he raked his hand through his hair then said, “So, how are you doing, Kelly?”

  Kelly sighed into the phone, “Not so good, Sir.”

  “Can you tell me where you are?”

  “Sitting on a picnic bench at a rest stop near the junction of I70 and I270, looking at the Rocky Mountain Arsenal National Wildlife Refuge.”

  “I know where it is. Would you be willing to stay there and wait for me? I’d like to come and talk to you for a bit.”

  “Yeah, I’ll wait,” Kelly said with a sigh.

  “I’ll be there in about a half an hour, maybe less.”

  “Okay. And Morgan?”

  “Yeah?”