Security by Mike Shade Read Free Book Online Page B

the washrooms at the back.
     
Thirty seconds after the kid disappeared, he wondered if Ken really did get it or if the kid was going to try to pull a Houdini, but it wasn't much longer before Ken was back out, picking up stuff as he made his way back to the counter.
     
He filled the tank, rearranged the car a little, took two caffeine pills. He'd get them to Kansas, to the little farmhouse and then they'd sit tight and wait.
     
Or sit tight and try to kill each other.
     
***
     
They drove all night, and Ken managed to sleep through most of it. All he had to do was block Bay from his mind. If he didn't, he got antsy. Bay never slept well without him.
Hell, they'd never been separated for more than a day or two and this was promising to be weeks.
     
He also didn't think too much about how close they'd come to getting killed. If he hadn't been trying to get into Rick's pants, he and Bay'd probably both be dead by now. And if that wasn't a reason to keep on trying, he didn't know what was.
     
He left well enough alone while they were driving, though. He did his best work when he could touch and he didn't really want to escape an explosion to take a header off the road.
     
He frowned as they pulled up into the laneway of a dilapidated old farmhouse after sunset the second day.
     
"Tell me this is a front for a five star hotel."
     
"Nope. This is a safe house. It's got an air conditioning unit and electricity. Stocked fridge. It's good." Simon parked the car in a garage around the back, beside a new blue pickup.
     
"It better have a big old bed. If we've got weeks of sitting around and waiting, I'm not planning on doing much sitting." He winked at Simon. Red was pretty sexy in his own right, not "hit you in the face with it when you first saw him" sexy, but a growly, muscle-y grows on you kind of sexy.
     
"There are two bedrooms. Two beds. Kitchen. TV. DVD player. One bathroom." Simon grabbed the big bag and headed toward the house.
     
He followed, keeping up, staying close. "Oh, I don't think
we'll need two beds. Best way to get me to shut up and go to sleep is to fuck me."
     
Simon laughed, shook his head. "You are something else, man. Have you always been this horny?"
     
"Pretty much." He grinned at Simon. "And I'm used to having it available to me whenever I want it."
     
"Spoiled brat." Simon opened the door. "What would you have done if Bay had been straight?"
     
He laughed. "Bay? Straight? If either of us was going to be straight it would have been me."
     
"Yeah? You swing both ways?"
     
He shrugged, looking around the farmhouse as they went in. "I'll try anything once. Or twice. Girls are... complicated."
     
The place was quiet, simple. A little dusty, but not unbearable. Sort of plain. "I wouldn't know. Men are complicated enough."
     
"I'm not complicated, Red. I want to feel good. We should go test one of those beds -- it's been like days ."
     
Those blue-green eyes looked at him. "You always want to fuck when you're scared?"
     
He went right up to Simon and moved against him, hands on that barrel chest. "I'm not scared, Red. I've got you to protect me."
"That you do," Simon stepped forward, meeting him head- on. "My name is Simon."
     
He pouted, pressing against the nice, strong body, looking right into Simon's eyes. "You don't like Red?"
     
"I'm not real big on games, Ken. Mind fucks are for work, not play."
     
"Hey, I'm not playing games. I want to fuck you. You don't like nicknames, fine; I promise that when you make me come I'll scream 'Simon' and not 'Red'."
     
"Kid? Quit fucking pushing so hard." Simon pulled him down into a kiss, hard and deep and strong.
     
He made a noise, surprised, shocked and then melted against Simon, mouth opening wide to let the invading tongue in. Simon didn't play, just fucked his lips with a single-minded intensity that filled him. His arms slid around Simon's waist, hands open, sliding over the firm muscles as he rubbed his cock against Simon's hip.
     
Simon