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GAMBLE WITH FATE.COM

Avoid Those That Know How to Break You

Gale had already made the necessary calls the week before. He was a man of method and his plans always came to whatever outcome he imagined. It was a fact in his mind that a week from the time he had arranged someone to watch his house and made sure a memo would reach Rory that she would be in charge until further notice, that Ortonse Fisher would be stiffening up in a morgue and that his flight once he got to Old America would be leaving in four hours. There was never a real doubt of failure, nor was their fear of something happening to hang up his agenda. However, this counted as a hang-up if he ever saw one.

A sigh escaped him as he set the last of his luggage down. All files that he wasn’t taking from the drafty apartment had been destroyed before he had even set out for Fisher’s mansion. The impressive electronics were gone, sold to a nerdy university student who figured he was insane for getting rid of all of it for less than a thousand dollars. He didn’t need extra funds, just needed to get the equipment away from him. Most of the ties he had to Aquaria had been severed or neatly put on hold, so of course he had to go and do something like this.

Finding the rickety chair unoccupied from the usual clutter, he sat down and stared at his bed. The night before, he had killed again and then fucked the victim’s only child. No, Calen was far from being a child. The twenty four-year-old was facing him, sleeping soundly, and no signs of discomfort showed on his features, though Gale knew he had been considerably rough. His hair was messy, sporting a few cow-licks that added tremendously to his appeal. Gale felt an urge to run his hands along his soft skin swallow him, but he refrained. He had done enough. Cursing himself for starting something he couldn’t possibly finish, Gale could not come up with a new plan. What the Hell was he supposed to do now? Calen was gorgeous, innocent, and the purest soul he had seen in a long time. Now that he had tasted of the pleasure he could give, he found his solid, smart plan looking more and more useless.

Calen’s eyes slowly opened, reminding the man of a sleeping, plotting cat; especially when a lazy grin came over him. He never broke their staring match as he slid to an upright position, leaning on his palm, and not bothered in the slightest that he was uncovered and giving his audience full view of his naked form. “You’re thinking too loudly.”

Gale stood and knew that even just woken, Calen noticed he was fully clothed and also wearing his dark coat. He could only give him a small smile, afraid if he tried for something bigger it’d only be a shaking grimace and he if he spoke his voice would break. Calen only watched as he sat next to him, moving easily as he pulled him close, eagerly accepting the kiss upon his lips. Gale’s good judgment deteriorated more as his hands spread across the warm skin of his sides and he leaned him back onto the mattress.

Calen smiled tiredly, weaving his fingers through the soft hair at the man’s neck. When the kiss ended, they remained close and he smiled at the somber look on his face. “I’m surprised, but glad, you stuck around.”

“It would have been too cliché and tacky to just leave you here without an explanation.” Gale sat up, helping his new lover into a sitting position.

“Do you really think I need one? Last night was great, but I figured it was just messing around.”

“I don’t mess around, Calen. Never have.” Gale picked a dent in the bedside table to stare at. “However much I wish I could redo my plans, I can’t. I’m still leaving Pearl for awhile.”

“How long?” it was all he could manage to ask at the moment.

“I think for a year, at least.”

“Isn’t that just my luck?”

Gale smiled despite the heaviness of the moment. For the first time since he met him, Calen sounded his age. Looking up, he found a sad pout on his lips. “We’re both going to be busy, Calen. You need to have a clear head, no distractions, since you’ll be in charge of things. Since Ortonse is dead, you have a lot on your plate. Things will need your attention, possibly years’ worth.”

“And what about you?” Calen ignored for a moment that he said years.

“I need to sort my life out. Killing those assholes has made me feel better; I still don’t regret my choices, and I know it was for the best. But it was still hard, to actually end someone’s life. I need to get away.”

“For how long?” Calen shifted about, not liking at all where this was going. How could Gale, after practically saying that he wasn’t just a fuck for him?

“No idea. A few years.” Gale was taken by surprise as Calen suddenly climbed onto him. His arms automatically went around him, clutching him tightly as the younger man began to kiss him desperately. He couldn’t stop himself from giving his delightful ass a harsh squeeze. “I’m coming back,” he said once the other man let up on his mouth to plant teasing pecks against his neck.

“You better fucking come back, Gale,” Calen growled as he pulled Gale’s head back by the hair, licking and sucking at his throat. “You’re the only thing worth being here on this shit island.”

Gale closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of him in his hold and the tickling sensation of his tongue for a little while longer. Calen was not making this easy on him. Before he became late for his flight by taking him again, Gale turned and gently nudged him off. As he stood, he kissed him one last time. “I got to go.”

Calen nodded, not voicing his farewell as he watched him go. He sat in the cooling bed for a few minutes before he crawled out of bed and took a cold shower. This was going to be a long day.

* * * * *

Calen pulled into the drive of his mansion. Wincing as he was met with three vans from news channels and a crowd of reporters. They found him instantly. With a few swift turns to the wheel, he drove around to the back, the annoying men and women of the media following him on foot. Fortunately the dogs and burly security guards kept them from reaching the back parking garage. Cursing under his breath, Calen left the safety of his car and scurried into the servant’s entrance of the mansion.

It was silent. The kitchen was dark, no sounds of cooks preparing the evening meal. All the lights of all the rooms he passed were darkened. Calen took his phone out of his pocket, opening it up but not finding any icon for missed calls or messages. He had figured Kit would know not to try and contact him, but didn’t put it past him. Kit was oddly clingy when it came to him.

The lack of noise was getting to him. Where were the maids or butler? What of the steroid addicted men his father had patrol his house? No one was around. Calen didn’t feel just yet like hollering out to anyone. Perhaps they had taken the day off. Mourning the death of their late boss? A noise came from behind him. Before he could turn, something heavy hit the back of his head. After that, he only knew darkness.

* * * * *

He couldn’t have been out long. Could he? Calen strained to open his eyes, wincing as he moved. It took him a minute to realize he was shirtless, hanging from the ceiling, with his arms tied above his head. His jeans were dirty and his bare feet just brushed the filthy floor. He didn’t recognize the surroundings. The room was dark, aside from a few fluorescent lights. A chair and table were off to the side. He swallowed, his dry tongue getting stuck to his throat when he found canes and whips displayed on the far wall.

His head pounded. How long ago was it that he had been jumped? His eyes felt puffy, grainy, stuck together, and he hoped it wasn’t from blood sticking in his lashes. He looked down, seeing in the bad light the bruises and scrapes on his chest. Knowing his luck, it was blood. Voices drifted from somewhere beyond the room. They sounded familiar, but in his state he could not place them.

“I told you to just keep him in holding, not torture him.”

“I didn’t do much to him. Not my fault the kid’s got sensitive skin.”

“You have disobeyed my demands already. Those were demands.”

“I worked for Ortonse. That little shit was involved, and I ain’t gonna just sit by and do nothin’ when I have him in my hold. Be glad I didn’t kill him.”

“As much as you may find this difficult to accept, he will be in charge soon.”

“I ain’t workin’ for no pansy traitor.”

Calen flinched and then again as two gunshots rang through the door. Sweat stung his eyes but he dared not close them. He swooned, shaking his head to clear it as he was almost pulled back into his personal darkness.

“No one touches him. He is off-limits to all of you, am I understood?”

There was a murmur from whoever was left to listen to the calm voice with the gun. That voice spoke again, too softly for him to hear and the reply it received. A few minutes later, the heavy metal door opened and Calen strained to see past the milkiness over his vision. He could only make out tall figures, nothing distinguishing to help him figure out just where he was. As hard hands dug into his arms to lift him, undo his bindings, and drag him out of the room, Calen bobbed in and out of awareness. He felt bizarre.

He winced and groaned as harsh light met him. Blinded further, he had to rely on his other, muddled as well, senses. The men carrying him said not a word and they were much bigger than he, so much so that he barely touched the ground they covered as they moved swiftly. Another wince came to him as his feet suddenly knocked against the inclining floor. They were going up steps. Their movements sent his head whirling, aching, and his stomach sick with the jostling about.

Cool fresh air hit him, but the bright light remained. It wasn’t warm, so it couldn’t have been sunlight. His escorts turned sometime later, going up a longer flight of stairs. His toes were banged up by the time they finished the third. His biceps hurt, the men dug into them as they pulled him along. Calen felt like screaming he was in so much discomfort, but his voice was still lost. He couldn’t even think straight. The strain proved too much and he blacked out seconds after the men dropped him to a carpet-covered floor.

The next time he woke up he nearly threw up. Calen lurched forward blindly and felt a hand to his chest keep him up. He looked about wildly, amazed after waking the last time the way he had how he was able to take in so much. Firstly, he was being calmly held by a softly smiling Li Cho Kit. Secondly, he was in the den of a personal room in his own house. Thirdly, he was sitting at a table, which a vial of smelling salts laid upon before him; simple gray sweat pants and a loose shirt adorned his body, and he wasn’t as sore or dopey feeling as before. Finally, and the most disturbing thing he discovered, was that he was in very real and durable shining handcuffs.

“Easy there,” Kit aided. Though his voice was soft, there was hardness to it.

Calen coughed, his throat sore but not as scratched as it had been. “Kit…what’s going on.”

Kit smiled, smoothing the young man’s disheveled yet clean hair away from his forehead and stood to walk around the table. “I am sorry for the treatment earlier last week. The hired help are just a little above Neanderthals. I assure you, I took care of the insolence and no one will dare to try something like that again.”

“Last week?”

“Yes. Don’t worry, they only managed to bruise you a bit. You were mostly out of it because of the fact that they didn’t feed you, and of course the drugs they kept shooting you full of.”

“Wha…What is today?” Calen swallowed, understanding now the reason for his grounded feeling. His stomach began to flip-flop.

“Friday. Your father’s funeral was today.” Kit looked gravely at him.

Calen noticed now that he was dressed in a smart black suit. He was crisp and composed, yet a very dark danger could be felt wafting off of him.

“Kit, why has this been done to me?” he asked, lifting his bound hands for emphasis.

“Let us not lie anymore, Cal.” Kit approached the table again. “You know exactly why this happened.” Calen stared at him dumbly and he felt his blood heat. “Ortonse and I knew you would have problems coming around, if ever you came around; but this is beyond anything I imagined.”

Calen did not let panic come to him, his breathing became a little heavier, but other than that he gave nothing away. No one would ever find out about Gale. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Do not push me farther than you already have.” Kit stopped his forward movements. His tone and eyes dark. There was a flash of something there that Calen could not hope to decipher. “I know you were a part of whatever killed Mika and your father. I have my ways of knowing, so do not deny it. However, every one of my people looking into this was killed before they could find the master behind the plan.” Kit looked him over, taking another step closer. “This you will fill in for me.”

“I don’t know.” Calen immediately regretted speaking.

Kit was beside him, grabbing him, knocking the chair over, and spinning him about to face him in the next second. Calen shook hard, terrified of the man’s wrath. Yet he could not speak out against the troubled writer that had caused all of the trouble. He whimpered and tears made his ice blue eyes appear like glass. His voice ran away as Kit pressed him against the table, leaning him down with a firm, threatening hold on his throat.

“You truly are a demon, my little Calen.” Kit inhaled his scent, closing his eyes as he nuzzled the soft skin of his cheek. “This group, obviously, is no longer in Aquaria. Who are they?” he asked in a deep purr, trailing his lips over his ear. “Where did they go?”

“I…” Calen clamped his mouth shut, tightly keeping his eyes closed as the lips were followed by specter-like touches of a hand down his side. He sobbed when the other hand tightened around his throat.

“You have always drawn out a compassion I thought never existed within me, but I must warn you; this is becoming dangerous for you.” Kit relished the feel of him trembling. “This whole time you have been toying me. You are young, so it is to be expected. However, you will learn to never play with my sensitive emotions, Calen.”

“Kit, if I did something to lead you on, I swear I didn’t mean to,” Calen was cut off as he was flipped over. He let out a pained groan as his abs knocked into the hard edge of the table. His heart began to thump faster as Kit made quick work of stretching him over the table, lifting his arms over his head, and undoing his cuffs to rebind them around the table leg diagonal from him.

“Something in my gut tells me you were deeply involved with one of them that did this,” Kit said as he looked at the now struggling man. “What organization was it? We have enemies, we were always aware, but this one proved invincible for us.”

“I don’t know!” Calen choked on his breath as Kit draped himself over him. Lips once again grazed his ear, opening to take the lobe and nibble upon it.

“Ortonse did not believe you would come around, didn’t have the stomach for real work. I argued that if given the chance, taught, and learned the truth of what he and I have always tried to do with this project you would come around.” Kit smiled as he pulled away, gripping his hips and delighting in the trembles beneath his hands. “From the moment I saw you, I knew I would champion you. I kept telling him to be patient and let you blossom under our guidance, because I felt you had potential to become even greater than him. As of late, he changed his mind. The way you handled your business and did not let what he had to do get to you made him see that you were a perfect partner. Ortonse was proud of you and was going to tell you he was making you his third in command. Only you and I have ever gained his true favor, Calen.”

“Stop;” Calen grit his teeth. He shouldn’t have felt this much pain, this much loss.

“It was bittersweet for me,” Kit went on, ignoring the strained command. “My dear, late employer knew me so well.” He leaned over again, pressing against his captive as he wrapped his arms around him. “Had you disappointed him, he was going to give you to me.” He couldn’t help licking the stretch of neck before him. “While I was overjoyed at hearing you would soon be learning our ways, I couldn’t help being frustrated. If you had failed him, there would have been no denying my wishes for you to be mine.”

“Stop!” Calen was terrified now. He strained against the binds, whimpering slightly at the pain in his wrists but did not give up or stop from trying to shake the bigger man off.

“How wrong he was to think you had not failed him.”

“Get off of me!” He did not want to hear this, be near this man any longer! Suddenly the pressure was gone, leaving him more shaken.

“A knife had been used to kill Ortonse. Did you know that?” Kit spoke as he walked over to the side of the room. The wall was covered with his most valuable weapons. Items he had collected over the years. Among them now was the dagger that had been lodged in Ortonse’s heart. He reached for one of his beautifully crafted, lacquered and smooth katanas. “I looked at Andre and Mika. Whoever it was has excellent skill.” Kit walked back to loom over Calen. “Could they be the one that holds your heart, silences your sweet tongue?”

Calen’s eyes widened as ripping reached his ears. The chilliness of the room made him jump. Kit had used something to slice his shirt off. There was a light click on the table and he turned to see, his face growing pale. He could imagine Kit had lots of practice with a big sword such as that. It was inside its shining black sheath, but he knew he found the reason for his shirt now lying in pieces on the floor.

“Oh? You are not going to deny any longer?”

“Kill me if you want. It won’t change anything.”

Kit smiled, picking up his katana once again and trailed the blunt end of the sheath over Calen’s spine. His smile grew at the shiver he induced. “Why would I kill you?” He delighted in the whimper and tremor he received as he traced his hemline. “You only need discipline.”

“No.” Calen could not believe what was happening. This was just a bad dream. He was really sleeping, still in Gale’s arms.

“You are your father’s son. That fire and potential needs only to be awakened.” He couldn’t help reaching out and touching the soft, exposed skin of the attractive man. “I loved Ortonse very much, Calen. He was the only family I ever really had. Never mind the rumors I’m sure you have heard; he and I were never lovers. I didn’t feel that way for him. However,” Kit hooked his fingers inside the elastic of Calen’s loose pants and began to pull down, “the love I feel for you is what I held for your father, plus the exhilaration of sexual desire. No, killing you would kill me in the end.”

As soon as he felt his touch Calen fought the hardest he could. His legs lashed out, trying desperately to hit, but it was useless. Kit dodged easily and if he was hit, he gave no sign of feeling it. He worked quickly, fully expecting this out of the unruly man, and tied his ankles together with his pants.

“Stop! Get the fuck away from me!” Calen screamed and hollered as Kit began to kiss up and down his back, across his shoulders, knead the firm globes of his ass, and lick at the sensitive back of his neck. He was drowning in the man’s frenzied desire.

“As much as I do, you are not ready nor deserving of my love,” Kit said once he rose from the panting, struggling man.

Calen was near hyperventilating, wishing he could pass out. He had the feeling that Kit would only revive him if he were to. Suddenly there was a hard presence behind him, nudging slickly against his rear. With a dull pain it pushed inside, too long, cold, and thin to be a human organ. Screaming he looked over his shoulder and nearly became speechless. Several inches already inside him was the tip of Kit’s katana.

“What the hell are you doing?” He sounded hysterical even to his own ears.

“This is not about love,” was all Kit said. His eyes were dark and smoldering as he watched the weapon slide in.

With a flick of his wrist he began a slow rhythm. The muscles around the flesh intruded upon quivered. The wet sound of it made his lust boil. Still Calen struggled. He clicked his tongue, inclining the speed and force of the thrust. If he continued to be defiant there was sure to be blood. Kit adopted a look of concentration as he angled and probed, deeper and deeper. Calen’s protesting and hollering only made him reach out to touch him with his free hand.

“You are young, naïve, idealistic, blind in your ignorance.” Kit licked at his back, pressing the sword in farther. Calen sobbed, cursing him, and he smiled before nibbling on his shoulder. “You will endure everything for months without ever giving me the information I need, won’t you? That is not wise, but I expect it.”

“Fuck you!” Calen bit back anything else that may have come out. His hands ached from gripping the leg so hard.

“Who is in control, Calen? Certainly not you.” Kit noted the sudden jump and desperate snarl one thrust evoked. Keeping that angle, they became harder. “This is about acceptance. You have the potential, but will remain nothing but a petty brat as long as you fight me. No one else cares. No one else is here at your side. Let go, Calen. Accept that you are in charge of Pearl now. Help build this place as your father intended. Let me help you awaken what’s inside you.”

“St-ahp!” Calen arched up, panting and flushed. His traitorous body had begun to react almost immediately after the man began to touch him. “You bastard,” he breathed, head falling against the cool table.

“You are nothing if you do not accept your nature. You are more like Ortonse than you realize.”

“No,” Calen groaned, shaking his head.

“Let me help and soon I won’t have to do this. The moment you accept, help with what you are responsible for nearly destroying, you will be strong.”

“I hate you.”

Kit smiled, kissing his sweaty temple. “Soon you will want me as I crave you.”

“I’ll…never…want something…like you.” Calen couldn’t help his voice hitching every time the katana slammed into his prostate.

Kit chuckled, thrusting harder and earning a broken, lusty sob in return. He was winning. Calen was a fool to think he wouldn’t. He knew the young man so well. It seemed he hadn’t yet realized how long he had studied him. His own breathing became huskier as he continued torturing him. There was no other finer than the one he had pinned before him. It was dangerous, getting so attached. Perhaps it was a blessing Calen did not realize the power he could wield over people, over Kit. He had learned his lesson. Ortonse’s grave was still fresh, the pain was still present. From now on, he would regard Calen with wariness. No one played with him the way he had and got away with it.

There could be no other word to describe what he felt when Calen began moaning then elation. He felt ready to burst out of his pants. The temptation proved too great and Kit found himself reaching for Calen’s swollen penis. He growled, kissing him lovingly on his head, when he moaned and arched into his touch, beginning to push his rear against the invading shaft. Though he knew Calen was delirious, still hazy from his time in holding, he couldn’t help but feel joy. It was going to be easy breaking him of his old personality. The real and true Calen would finally develop soon.

“You will right what you have helped cause. There is chaos on the streets, people without jobs, and loyal men and women screaming for your explanation and blood.” Kit kneaded the organ twitching in his hand, delighting in the way Calen began to writhe. “I don’t need to know just yet who was behind this. There are other things demanding my attention.”

Calen cried out, falling flat as the sword was extracted from him at the same time the wonderful hand left him. He laid trembling, his teeth chattering, and body seeming to steam as he listened. Kit was still in the room, but doing what he couldn’t say. He bit his lip, blood spotting the table, as he fought from calling out to him. Kit had stopped. He should have been happy for the reprieve. However, he ached in all ways. No matter what he said, Kit was all he had.

He jumped, groaning as he felt Kit’s naked body drape over him. The warmth of his flesh scalded him. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he was gripped and massaged. His hands were incredible. Another link in his mental armor was torn open as he pressed against him on his choice. He gasped as Kit bit into his shoulder blade, pushing the head of his own pulsing erection inside of him.

“No one is coming for you. I am the only one from now on that you will be able to trust.”

After that, Kit did not speak. He slid inside the still very tight entrance, hissing as he was gripped all around. So long he had wanted this. He smiled thinking Ortonse could see him reaping the rewards of his service from wherever he was now. The movements were quick and sharp, bringing his orgasm on quick. Calen’s organ was already dribbling. His screams and moans were that of a scared boy. He was enjoying it and did not know how to deal with wanting his cock buried inside him.

There was no love in this. Kit was cold and precise, working quickly to get them off. Calen had yet to earn the intense pleasure of his love-making. He had far to go to truly regain and cement his respect. His loyalty he had, whether he wished it or not.

“I will always be here, Calen. Me and no other can you depend on.”

Calen shook his head, still fighting against him. His chin was grabbed and suddenly he was pulled back as far as he could and lips were crushing against his. They did not stay long, in case he bit, but it was enough to leave him winded. He screamed, a rough and broken wail, as he came. It left him aching, throbbing, and empty. Hands gripped his hips hard, making him wince, and soon Kit grunted sharply and a thick heat flooded his body.

Kit collapsed on top of him. Their bodies were drenched with sweat; Calen’s sticky outside and in with cooling semen. He didn’t have to look to know his wrists were bleeding. A scorching sting pulsed from his ass when Kit pulled his shrinking penis out of him. No doubt there was blood there as well. Calen sniffled, willing anymore tears away as he felt slimy streams of Kit’s essence run down his thighs. He buried his head in his arms. How could he have enjoyed that?

The handcuffs were off and he was rolled over. Naked and composed, Kit sat down in the righted chair. Calen just lay there, looking blindly up at the ceiling. He was lost and empty, his thoughts further confusing him. Kit sighed, not as sated as he could have been, and pulled the boneless young man off of the table to pour onto his lap. He smiled as he looked at his eyes. They were clouded and empty. Calen had broken.

“Tomorrow you start your new job. It was your father’s wish for you to take over the company. The night he was killed he had made a deal with the Ambassador of Junistus. Big plans but no leader. You will take over.” Calen made no effort to reply, no struggle as he gave him a deep kiss, tasting nearly his tonsils. “With my guidance you will do fine. You will call all of the shots. However, when you are not working, when we are home, you belong to me.” He wrapped his arms around him tightly, enjoying the feel of Calen’s warmth in his long-awaiting hold.

* * * * *

Three weeks later

Calen grit his teeth, failing to remain as calm as he wanted. No matter how much he tried, a few tears managed to leak out of his furious eyes.

“Fuck you, I did what was right!”

He had made it clear he was putting an end to all of the shady dealings his father had used to make business. It had worked until now. Not even a month into his job and people were trying to get away with things they wouldn’t have dreamed of under Ortonse. One of his former allies had stolen three million dollars and technology from them. The ungrateful bastards! He was trying to do the right thing.

“You did what was naïve and stupid,” Kit said, crawling onto his bed behind the bound man.

Calen cried out, the pressure nearly driving him crazy. The moment they stepped through the door, Kit was on him. They finally managed to get to some privacy, the older man’s bedroom suite, and his punishment was lasting for a little over an hour now. Calen was stripped and forced onto the mattress on his hands and knees. Kit had played, making him hard and in pain, forcing his orgasm away with a cock ring. A chain leash led from a hook on the wall to his neck, tightly encased inside a thick leather collar.

“You went against my advice. I told you to buy the bitch from California’s loyalty. You refused, appeared weak, and now look at what’s happened.” Kit ran harsh kisses along his back as he spread his cheeks, pushing a large vibrator inside him. “You had better realize quickly that these cattle only respond to money, power, and force. Enchant them, if that doesn’t work, scare them. This is the only way.”

Afterward, Calen rose sore and languid off of the bed. Kit had yet to keep him overnight. This arrangement was about discipline. Cuddling could come after his new boss no longer took his love for granted. He watched as he gathered his clothes, smiling at how he no longer whimpered and blubbered. Calen dressed and made it to the door when he turned around, leveling his clear eyes on the lounging figure still on the bed.

“When our group finds Mrs. Chovney, have them kill her. Make an example of her, Kit.” With that he was gone.

* * * * *

Eight months later

Calen bit his lip, managing to muffle the moan that wanted badly to come out. He sank further into his chair, his work long forgotten. Threading his hands into soft black hair, he pulled a little more and was rewarded for his boldness.

Rewards. Though he was working, Kit felt the need to give him something for his long string of success. No one stepped out of line anymore, the new buildings for Mecca were nearly finished and looking impeccable and Calen was now demanding loyalty and respect from those that wanted in their business. People began to fear him, as much as Ortonse. Calen let his groan out, not caring if anyone heard, as he came hard. Kit continued to suck him off, swallowing every trace of his release.

Kit rose up and Calen looked at him from beneath fluttering lashes. He tucked the man’s hair back, tracing the smile that was on his skilled lips with one slender finger. “I hate you.”

Kit breathed a laugh, leaning closer. “No you don’t.”

Calen let him slide his tongue into his mouth without hesitation, pulling him ever closer by the lapels of his suit jacket.

* * * * *

Ten months later

The night it became official that Pear Grove and Brickwater, two smaller cities on the outskirts of theirs, became parts of Pearl, Kit decided to up the stakes between them. Joining the land was ingenious, a plan cooked up by Calen, and Kit found himself ready for more. Together they were accomplishing so much. Much more could be theirs. He was sick of the tug-of-war they had performed since the beginning. Calen was still holding out for someone. Kit was ending it now.

He hissed, thrusting faster and harder. Calen was beautiful. This was the first time he had taken him on his back. Every look, every expression he caught. Calen tried not to look at him and he smiled. He felt more than he would ever confess. He could see it in his eyes. Kit grabbed the shell opal-inlaid silver pistol from under his pillow, pushing the barrel firmly against Calen’s golden temple. He noted he did not look afraid, though he was powerless with his hands bound behind him.

“I hold your life, Calen.” He thrust hard, shivering as Calen arched up, wrapping his legs around him further. “Do you trust that it is in the best hands?”

He wasn’t expecting the glint in Calen’s darkened eyes, nor the wicked smile that flashed across his flushed lips. He groaned, hardening more inside the slick channel as his lover turned his head to flick his tongue against the barrel. Calen rose enough to plant a kiss on his wrist. The sound of the younger man laughing as the usually calm man threw the gun aside to hammer inside of him was heard outside the locked double doors of their bedroom.

* * * * *

A year and two months later

Kit woke up, puzzled because it was the middle of the night. He realized the interruption of his rest and wrapped his arms around the beautiful naked body half on top of his. He frowned as he watched his lover. Calen kissed his chest every now and then, drifting his hand up and down his tanned skin as he thought.

“It was only one man,” Calen said, a somewhat bitter tone to his voice. “Just one, sad, and lonely man.” He sensed Kit was about to speak, demand something he could not give and rose up to look him in the eye. “Listen to me. It is done. He is gone. I have done more than my father had, and we all know that it was a matter of time before someone got to him. Please don’t ask me his name. He is a dead dream, Kit. He doesn’t matter anymore.” I’m sorry, Gale. If you ever do come back, you won’t be able to find him anyway. Calen died. He gave up.

“He is dead then?” He didn’t mean in the literal sense. Kit cupped his pale face, running his thumb over his silky mouth. Such a deadly mouth.

“Yes.” Calen killed the distance between them, demanding silently that he make him forget the last memories of Gale O’Kirk he had.

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