Road Trip, Volume 1 Page 6

  “If I didn’t feel so fucking good, I would thump the hell out of you.” Sonny stretched, moaned as something popped audibly. “Oh yeah.”

  “It’s a stone-cold bitch, getting old.” He needed a swim, maybe. Nice dip in the water, get his brain back online.

  “You think? I’ll let you know when I catch up to you there, Precious.” The guy just never let up.

  MJ watched Sonny roll to the edge of the bed and test his ankle, a line appearing on either side of Sonny’s mouth.

  “Be easy on it, for fuck’s sake. You’re not eighteen.” He shook his head, slid over. “I’m going to go for a swim. You want the john or the couch?”

  He got a laugh, half a bark, really. “The john. There’s some cash in the same bag my clothes were in. Really, go swim and then get us some grub?”

  “Yeah. I’ll figure it out. Where’s the car keys?” He helped Sonny move, that ankle less swollen than yesterday, for sure. Christ. He was insane. Sonny was infectious. Pretty soon he was going to start watching NASCAR and spitting.

  He got a look, then a shrug. “In the very front pocket of the black tool case. Your knife is in there too.”

  “Yeah? You got it on the plane?” He grinned. Man, he loved that blade. “Cool. I’ll go find groceries.”

  Lots of groceries.

  He was fucking starving.

  “I did. I’m good that way.” Sonny grinned back, bouncing a little. “If you can find Twinkies, get me some, will you? I’m craving.”

  “Can you buy Twinkies here?” Oh dude. Ho-Hos. Chocolate. Cream filling. Chocolate. Hell yeah.

  “Well, there ought to be a small section of shit like that. There always is in Mexico. London too.” Grinning, Sonny hopped the rest of the way to the john with him. “Don’t be long. I might get stuck.”

  MJ chuckled. “Don’t fall, Sunshine. I’m out of morphine.”

  He just shook his head at himself. The logical move was to get the car and get the hell out. He couldn’t just leave the guy hurting, though. Asshole.

  “I’ll be okay. You just bring me something sweet for breakfast, and I’ll make some coffee that will eat your spoon.”

  The bathroom door shut in his face, Sonny’s chuckle coming through to him.

  Because that always sounded so appetizing. Here. Drink something caustic. Yummy.

  MJ rolled his eyes and went to get the car keys.

  Insane. Utterly insane.

  Really.

  SONNY CLUMPED around, trying to get a few things done, like putting a plastic baggy on his ankle so he could bathe. He looked for the rest of the pots and pans in their little rented kitchenette. Then he ended up out on the porch, in the hammock, foot up, giving him some relief from the damned throbbing. Maybe he could just chop it off.

  Then MJ would really think he was nuts.

  Scratching said nuts was getting to be a habit. Man, he should go on vacation more often.

  “Dude, you got jock itch too? You’re falling apart.” MJ came sashaying around the corner, chocolate on his lips, hands full of bags and shit.

  “Nope. Just a simple urge to do what feels good. And since I can’t cut my foot off at the ankle, I’m gonna scratch.” Sonny sat up, holding on as the hammock swung wildly. “What’d you bring me?”

  “I found Twinkies. Got some meat and a bunch of fruit. Chocolate. Nuts. Bread. Some weird-assed nut butter that didn’t smell bad. Melons. Coffee. Some banana chips and these gizzada things.”

  Sonny chuckled. Nut butter. Maybe he would spread it on and have MJ lick it off. Now there was a nice thought. “You got Twinkies.”

  “Yeah. They had some.” The box was tossed over, MJ’s aim dead-on. “I don’t know if they’re fresh, but they’re Twinkies.”

  “Twinkies don’t have to be fresh….” He stared suspiciously at MJ’s chocolate-covered mouth. “What did you have?”

  “Huh?” Man, butter wouldn’t melt in that boy’s mouth. Something did, though.

  “Don’t be holding out on me, Precious. What did you eat that you’re not sharing?” Chocolate. Mmm. Sonny rolled out of the hammock to stand on his good foot, clutching his Twinkies as he hopped on over.

  MJ grinned and shook his head, stepped away. “You want a mango?”

  “No. I want whatever it is you’re having.” He could smell the chocolate.

  “Hmm?” Another step back, another shit-eating grin. Bastard. Little fucker.

  “Oh, that’s mean. Come on, give.” Clomp, clomp. Sonny followed, giving chase.

  “Uh-uh. Mine.” A piece of something nummy and dark and sweet slipped into MJ’s lips.

  “You son of a bitch, come on, be nice.” He grinned, closing in. “I can still kick your ass.”

  “With one leg? I’d like to see you try.” Those eyes were just dancing.

  “You’re cruising for a bruising.” Could you say sugar rush? That man was just bouncing. It was a good look for him. Sonny adjusted himself so he could make a rush if he needed to.

  “Bullshit. I’d have you down on the floor before you could reach me.”

  “Okay, we can do that too.” He chuckled at the way MJ’s eyes widened. “Give me chocolate.”

  “Say pretty please.” There was a piece right there, melting between those fingers.

  He pondered that. “Okay, pretty please.” That wasn’t too much for his pride. He opened up, sticking his tongue out.

  Oh damn. Good. Dark. Melty. Sweet. Uhn.

  “Good shit, huh?”

  “Hell yes.” Sonny laughed out loud, launching himself at MJ, making them both stagger as he fought for the rest of that sweet.

  MJ dropped the bags on the counter and reached up high to keep the candy away, the chocolate starting to slide. “Mine.”

  “Share.” Did the man forget how much taller Sonny was? He reached up, grappling.

  “Make me.” MJ pressed right up against him, going up on tiptoes. Fuck, the man smelled good.

  They smacked back against the wall, which suited Sonny just fine as he didn’t have to teeter on his good foot. Gave him leverage. His hand slid up MJ’s arm, grasping at MJ’s wrist to pull it down. “Want.”

  Strong little fucker. “Uh-uh. Mine. Have a Twinkie.”

  They scrabbled until Sonny finally dug his free hand into MJ’s ribs. He had to drop his Twinkies to do it too. Silly asshole, thinking he wouldn’t fight dirty over sweets.

  “Fuck me!” MJ started squeaking and twisting, snorting and laughing hard. “Stop. Stop it, you ass!”

  “Wait, do you want me to fuck you, or do you want me to stop?” Oh, that was an even better look, MJ all red-faced and chortling. Sonny didn’t even think; he just leaned down and licked chocolate off MJ’s lower lip.

  “Don’t make me hurt you, Sunshine.”

  Man, belly to belly felt fine, all warm and hard and close. “Oh, you never know, Precious. I might like it.” He grinned, feeling fine. Just fine.

  MJ snorted, sticky fingers painting melted chocolate right down his cheek. “You think?”

  Oh. Yum. Sonny grabbed MJ’s fingers and started sucking on them, licking the chocolate right off. Jesus, that was addictive. He did like smooth, dark stuff. And he’d always liked his chocolate followed by a bit of salt.

  “I said that was my candy.” MJ tugged his head over, tongue slip-sliding over Sonny’s cheek, wet and hot as all get out.

  “Uh-huh. Mmm. You can eat one of my Twinkies later. I’m all about sharing, Precious.” Shit, that felt good. Sonny started rocking, his hard cock prodding MJ’s hip.

  “Good to know.” MJ pushed right back against him, giving him some good friction. Oh hell yes. That made him give up entirely on the tickling and the fighting for the chocolate. He rubbed, his hips rolling, and licked at MJ’s chin, where more of the sticky melted sweet had landed.

  MJ lifted his chin, and he got a sweet little sound, raw and rough and real. One hand landed on his hip, moving him nice and quick.

  He let go of MJ’s hand and reached down to cup
MJ’s ass, having to squeeze to get between it and the wall. He was finally holding one hard-muscled cheek, though, moving MJ along with him, biting down on the skin of MJ’s throat. Listen to that pretty noise. MJ just moved like heaven against him, rubbing away with that hard prick.

  He really wanted to feel it again, but that would mean he had to move, and he wasn’t ready to do that yet. He’d been weaving fantasies about the ass he had a hold of, and that lower lip tasted good, but he wasn’t kissing. No sir. Not at all.

  Those bright blue eyes weren’t shy at all, just looking right into him, hotter than the hinges of hell. “Good chocolate.”

  “Hell yes.” The best. Sonny crawled up MJ’s body, his leg half wrapping around one hip as far as it would go. He needed, yeah, there. That pressure, the kind that made his balls draw up.

  “Uhn.” That made those pretty eyes roll, MJ rippling beneath him, ass like a rock in his hand. His bottom lip got caught between sharp teeth and tugged, pulled. Damn.

  Sonny grunted, hummed, needing it like he hadn’t in, well, it had been a while since he and Woody’d broke up, hadn’t it? Panting, Sonny tried to get closer, tried to crawl inside.

  MJ’s hand slipped down, yanking at his shorts, then tugging harder, the man hunting skin. Oh yeah. That worked fine.

  He gave it up, sucking in his belly so MJ could get inside, get to touching him like he needed to be touched. Not to be outdone, Sonny started working at the waistband of MJ’s pants, trying to get to the butt underneath.

  MJ’s teeth found his collarbone, scraped sharp enough to make him grunt. One hand fished out his prick, started rubbing and pulling at him, good and hard. His eyes tried to roll back in his head. Fuck, so much better than his own hand. Sonny got a handful of ass, squeezing, just murmuring at how hot MJ’s skin was.

  That man just hummed away, sweet and low and deep and vibrating against his skin. His prick was worked hard, thumb on the tip making his toes curl. Which was actually kinda dangerous, considering that he only had one foot on the floor.

  Sonny chuckled, rocked, his breath on MJ’s mouth, a second away from giving in and taking a big sloppy kiss. Which was when MJ saved him from himself by scraping one fingernail over his slit, making him jerk and shout, making him shoot so hard he probably covered MJ’s whole belly with his come.

  MJ groaned a little, eyes closed, hand sliding away, forcing the zipper of his own shorts down to start working that cock, ass rocking against the wall. One hand firmly on that fine ass, Sonny used the other to reach for MJ’s cock, giving the man something to fuck, something to really push against.

  “Mmm-hmm….” The son of a bitch was hot as a firecracker, entire body into humping his hand. Liquid sex dripped on down, easing the way, slicking his palm up. Hoo-boy.

  He wanted that. Made his fucking mouth water harder than the chocolate had. Sonny just shook his head, sweat dripping into his eyes as he pulled and pulled.

  “Come on, man,” he said. “Come on.”

  “Oh sweet fuck.” MJ’s head slammed back, throat working as heat sprayed over Sonny’s hand. Fuck, yeah. Just like that.

  God, that was pretty. Sonny licked a bead of sweat from MJ’s cheek, right beside that chocolate-sweet mouth. “Goddamn.”

  “Uh-huh.” MJ nodded, tongue slipping out to wet those lips.

  Sonny stared, his own mouth suddenly dry. Lord, the things that mouth made him think. He sighed, easing away. “Better than the chocolate,” he said, meeting those eyes for just a minute.

  He got a half grin, a nod. “And the chocolate was worth fighting over.”

  “God, yes.” Sonny swayed a little, blinking. “Man, can you get me and my Twinkies to the couch? I’ll share.” He figured he could share both. Twinkies and couch.

  “I imagine I can do that, yeah.” MJ chuckled and nodded.

  “Cool.” He grinned, just feeling oozy and loose. “Thanks, by the way. For the groceries.”

  “Guy’s gotta eat.” MJ plopped him down, then settled beside him, head bobbing.

  He put an arm around MJ, pulling him close, letting the Twinkies drop to his lap. He nuzzled into the hollow between MJ’s neck and shoulder. “I’m sleepy as fuck. I’m blaming your pills, ’kay?”

  “Uh-huh.” MJ yawned, long and wide. “Mine’s the shots.”

  “Yeah.” Sonny leaned a little harder, just enough his lips pressed to MJ’s skin, his tongue slipping out to taste. “We’re a mess.”

  “Mmm-hmm. Nap. Then food. Chocolate’s mine, though.”

  “Uh-huh. I bet it would go good with the bananas.” His words slurred, MJ’s skin tasting so good. Sonny let his eyes close, let his head get heavy, relaxing.

  “Mmm. Bananas.” MJ started snoring softly, not bad, just enough.

  That would do.

  He’d settle for a nap now.

  Later he’d wheedle more chocolate out of MJ.

  Or fuck it out of him. Whatever came first.

  Chapter Seven

  HIS ASS was asleep.

  Not just tingly and hot, but asleep-asleep.

  There was also someone on his shoulder, heavy and hot and drooling—which surprisingly was less gross than he’d thought it would be, but that could be the chocolate talking.

  Man, he wished his ass would wake up.

  MJ stretched, the tingling in the base of his spine making him shift and squirm. Oh wow. Sonny’s head made a great noise when it slapped against his bare thigh.

  Impressive.

  Possibly ow too.

  “Jesus fuck!” Sonny exploded into action, leaping up off the couch, then hollering his damned fool head off as he teetered and fell backward, shaking the entire foundation of the little guest cottage, making the windows rattle.

  That? Was pretty fucking cool.

  “You okay, man?”

  Sonny lay flat on his back, arms spread, looking at the ceiling. “Nope. I think I might be permanently damaged. But I can tell you where to ship my remains, Precious.”

  “Cool.” He stretched out on the couch, trying to convince his ass to return to the land of the living.

  “What the fuck did you do that for, anyway?” Sonny sounded only vaguely curious, like it was only polite to ask.

  “I didn’t. I mean, my ass is asleep, so I stretched. The falling was all you.”

  Man, he bet that bread would be good with that nut-butter shit.

  A positively evil chuckle broke his thoughts as Sonny rolled over, propping up on his elbows. “You want me to wake it up for you? I can, in about a million ways.”

  “My ass is off-limits, thank you.” He stretched one leg up, flexing a little. “I don’t play catcher.”

  “Why not? You’ve got an ass made for fucking, Precious.” Those dark, dark eyes moved up his legs, right to where they joined. And Sonny stared.

  “You should talk. You look like you’d be a sweet fuck, honest.” Tight and hot and right—yeah, MJ could see it.

  “Hell no. I’ve never let anyone do that. Why would I start now?” Grinning, Sonny hoisted up on his hands and knees, then crawled over until he could use MJ’s thighs as leverage to stand. “I’m good with my mouth, though.”

  “Never, huh? How do you know you wouldn’t like it?” Not like he knew, but Sunshine didn’t know that.

  “Nope. No way. I’m made to be the fucker, not the fuckee.” He got a cheerful grin and a fine view of Sonny’s chest, belly, and privates, still exposed by askew shorts, before the man grabbed his box of Twinkies and started limping toward the kitchenette.

  Now that might be a fun thing…. Find a permanent magic marker and write “fuckee” across Sonny’s chest. Yeah. Yeah, he could go there. “You leave my chocolate alone, dude.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I want some coffee. Did you get coffee?” Man, he’d never seen anyone so damned happy to scratch his ass or his balls. Of course as sticky as they both were, maybe it was a necessity. He hoped Sonny washed his hands.

  “I did.” Dude. Now he needed a shower. A hot one. Because, ma
n, he had hairs sticking together that were never meant for that shit.

  “Cool. I’ll put some on and then go take a little swim. Have you tried the water out there?”

  “Not yet. I was, but the whole food-shopping-driving thing happened.” And the whole hand-job thing. That led to the napping thing.

  “You should come with me.” The smell of coffee came, strong and good, as Sonny opened it and started dishing it out. Blue Mountain or whatever. It was supposed to be good shit.

  “Sure.” He wandered over to his bag, found a pair of trunks, and changed into them before heading to dig through sacks, looking for the last bite of chocolate and a piece of bread.

  Sonny got a Twinkie out of the box and sat on one of the wicker stools to prop up his ankle and look at it. “Hey, I think it looks better.”

  He peered over, nodded. It did look better, still a little swollen but not horrible. “Not getting your ass kicked seems to be good for it.”

  “No shit. And you never kicked my ass. You just made an attempt.” Sonny winked. “Should I plastic it? Hey, do you have any duct tape?”

  “In the trunk of my car.” He frowned suddenly, looking up at Sonny. “Nobody’s driving my car, right? It’s parked?”

  There was some stuff that law enforcement would find… interesting in there.

  “Woody would have had to drive it to storage, but yeah, he got us a place in Wilmington, a place where your baby and my Rosie will be safe. Along with all of your other crap.” Sonny shrugged. “Do you think that rope would keep a bag on my foot? Or should I just take the wrap off for a bit?”

  “I’d just take it off. What do you drive?” Cool. Storage worked. Man, he needed to get online and shit, deal with the damned job. Oh, look. Pastry.

  “A ’62 Starfire. She’s a sweet beast.” Another Twinkie wrapper crinkled, Sonny just… fellating it as he swallowed the damn thing nearly whole.

  He wasn’t sure whether to gag or be impressed.

  “Pretty, pretty. I’m fond of my ’stang. Have a Firebird on the West Coast that I dropped a sleeper engine into. She’s fine.”

  “Yeah? Nice.” Licking a bit of cream off his lower lip, Sonny got up, tested the unwrapped ankle. “It’ll do as long as you don’t knock me around anymore.”