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Jake liked to make Rooster wait. The man was a good sport, within reason: would stand with hands by his side, quiet at the door, patient for however long it took for Jake to finish with the associate at hand. An obedient shadow.
The associate he was talking to – Slim, a gruff, weedy man who belied more strength than you’d be able to tell from the thin gnarled nature of his hands – was getting antsy, unhappy with an audience. His eyes darted to Rooster’s dark figure every few seconds, as if calculating whether or not the hired marksman was supposed to be there.
It was funny. Everyone knew Jake wasn’t in the habit of entertaining people he didn’t want around.
“You can go,” Jake said, after watching a minute more of fidgeting.
“Thanks, boss.” Slim slipped backwards immediately, voice dipped in derision.
He’d only stuck around out of a lack of options. Jake knew he held none of Slim’s loyalty to his old man. But it didn’t matter, because Slim would never be privy to any of the right pieces of information. He nodded once at the retreating figure.
Slim gave Rooster a wide berth, veering as far as he could in the entrance and stomping down the stairs two steps at a time.
Rooster cocked an amused brow. “Jumpy.”
“I’ve seen him worse,” Jake put his initials on the dotted line of a check, and slid it over to Rooster. “How was Prague?”
“Uneventful.” Rooster didn’t take a seat in the now vacant chair. He folded the thin slip in half before tucking it into his uniform pocket. Rooster never wore anything besides all black, whether tactical or casual; Jake considered him a cliché for it.
“A welcome thing to hear,” Jake sighed. He pushed the reason for their meeting forward on his desk.
Rooster’s dark eyes roved over the news article placed in front of him. He raised both eyebrows, this time. “Seems personal.”
“Of course it isn’t,” Jake scoffed. Just because the figure splashed across the headline was his uncle didn’t mean he wasn’t also a rat selling information out to the feds. It needed to be nipped in the bud, quick and precise, before too much scrutiny fell upon the family.
Rooster remained skeptical, furrowed lines appearing on his forehead, but business eked out from the epicenter of the very room they stood in. Jake hadn’t kept a strong grip on the organization by falling into pessimism.
“How fast can it be done?”
Rooster sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth. “Gimme a week.”
“We don’t have that amount of time. Wednesday.”
“Jake,” Rooster paused – his feet betrayed him, shifting with uncharacteristic nerve. “With his prominence, and the cops swarming around, It’ll be impossible to get him alone before then.”
“You’re the best of the best,” Jake waved a hand at the empty space around them. “You’ll figure it out.”
Bradshaw did not figure it out. Wednesday came and went, and the typical signal of a completed job never came, though one asking for mercy did. Jake stared down the length of his kitchen and kicked the foot of one of the stools at the island counter. The view of the river from his penthouse was worthless, rippling and shiny in the morning sun in a mockery of Jake’s frustrations.
Methods of communication were better in person. Jake made his way to the diner six blocks away from his apartment. Rooster was waiting for him in a corner booth, standard black shirt plain against the red vinyl booths.
The man was sipping on a steaming mug; Jake knew the exact flavor of burnt coffee, the need for a burst of bitterness on his tongue.
He nodded at Sheryl behind the counter. She knew the signal well; with Jake’s gesture, she untied her apron and retreated into the kitchen to leave the diner empty of anyone else.
“Got some nerve,” Jake slid into his seat. He had half a mind to kick the man’s kneecaps out, but Rooster would react out of training before he could consider who he was laying a hand on. It would do neither of them any good to go down that path.
Rooster played with the silver ring on his hand. “There’s an explanation.”
“Oh, nothing to it,” Jake sneered.
He knew exactly why Rooster failed to deliver, knew what to look for now in Rooster’s hits: a quiet sidewalk, the early hours of the morning. He’d watched the shocking report on the news of a prominent real estate mogul found dead in front of his apartment complex, the headlines picking up a moment later.
Any grudge of Iceman’s was threaded in his careful words; Jake had been listening to them at his father’s knee since he was seven. Slider had no qualms with fucking off and leaving Jake to take the reins, but it meant Jake was left with close ties between their two organizations. It wasn’t something he would’ve chosen, but his old man always had loyalty to where he got his start.
Jake often fantasized about rolling through to where Slider played golf and shooting the cart tires flat in petty display of his annoyance.
The alliance had its benefits. Their territories coincided well, even if Jake didn’t like sharing certain pieces. Particularly ones he deserved to own.
“There are no distractions,” Rooster bit out, throat jumping as he swallowed.
“No?” Jake tapped the sugar spoon against the edge of the mug. It rang, dinky and dull, in the silence between them. “No, but Iceman beckoned, and you went, right?”
The man sitting in front of him had the good sense to not answer in the affirmative.
“I don’t appreciate being caught off guard,” Jake continued. “I don’t appreciate surprises. And I don’t need to tell you what the consequences are.”
“Give me forty-eight hours,” Rooster said. “I can get it done.”
“No need.” Jake shook his head. “I’ve made other arrangements. Your skills aren’t required here anymore.”
He detested handing the same thing off to more people. Didn’t like calling in Coyote for a rush job, or rush jobs in general. It’d been drilled into his head to play two steps ahead, because this was how loose ends appeared. Jake was furious at himself for the situation, for getting too comfortable in the one man at his shoulder. But Javy was reliable and owed Jake many a favor.
Something hot and sharp spiked in his gut, at the thought of someone else pulling Rooster away from the task Jake needed him for. Ice was a goddamn fucking thorn in his side, but too powerful and too needed for the real estate side of the business.
Bradshaw stared at the tabletop, sticky with remnants of another patron’s meal. “You sending me away?”
Rooster was a hit for hire, Jake reminded himself. He had other obligations and his loyalty remained to the people who’d trained him. Jake could keep funneling money into his pockets for jobs well done, but Rooster was never expected to be a permanent fixture on this side of town.
Jake shrugged. He pushed his coffee to the side, mug still full.
“Up to you.”
Bradshaw glared at the empty counter seats. When Jake didn’t say anything further, he slid out of the booth and walked out of the diner, understanding his dismissal.
Even while he fantasized about pulling out Bradshaw’s guts for going against his orders, Jake took that particular honor as only his to exact. When one of the men who’d caused Rooster grief and a broken leg last year wandered into Jake’s side of the city, he took it upon himself to correct the mistake.
The man twitched before him, woeful.
“Keep drooling like that, you’re gonna leave a stain on the rug,” Jake cocked the pistol in his hand. “And I had it lovingly shipped in from Italy. Foreign customs tax was a bitch.”
Coyote had done the heavy lifting by scouting the object of Jake’s ire. It was handy Machado happened to be in the right place at the right time, and the man now laying at Jake’s feet was loyal to someone he hated. Jake imagined the news passing back through the channels, the enraged swirl following the disappearance. He’d treat himself tonight.
“Go on,” Jake readied his aim. “Crawl. Nothing stopping you from getting out of here.”
The remaining fingers on the man’s left hand shifted. They called him the Dagger, incisive, in and out with precision. The nickname was disappointing: Jake found him woefully unprepared once his nails had left his hand.
Dagger yowled through the cotton stuffed into his mouth, something about Jake’s sanity. He didn’t move towards the entrance to the basement.
“I take care of loose ends,” Jake responded. He spun the chamber. “Should’ve known better than to spring a surprise on what’s mine.”
He nudged Dagger with his foot until he started a wrenching, slow crawl – trailing sweat and grime and blood against the concrete. He took joy in knowing the gravel and sand spread to soak everything up would scrape the man’s palms.
Jake’s old man used to chide him for playing with his food. He let Dagger get to stumbling feet, bleeding hand wrapped against his bruised torso, gag still wound tight around his jaw – let the early morning light stream into view, let the man consider a brief, sickening hope of escape – before he fired.
“Andie,” Jake called to the woman keeping watch outside. “Help me roll this up.”
“Did you hear the news?”
Coyote came back within the time Jake asked him to, victorious and reliable. He was always shiny like a lucky penny, and today was no better, the stark white of his shirt bright in the dim lighting of the bar. Javy played a good partner as Jake made his usual rounds.
“Newark? Yeah,” Jake replied.
Newark was always an Iceman special, which was a given this time of year – someone always upset him over the river. He was more preoccupied with how one of the cameras wasn’t working in the back; Jake would have to send Garcia over to fix it.
“No, on 95th." Coyote took a swig of water.
Jake stopped in his mental run through of the revenue for the week. “Didn’t hear a thing.”
“Unsurprising, given it was an hour ago,” Javy said. They were in safe territory to speak more freely about Coyote’s network of informants. “It was the idiot who ran for mayor two years ago. The one hinting in the press. Real shame.”
He was being facetious. Javy knew how much Jake hated the guy in question for eating up half of their funding for his low-brow luxuries, having the audacity to lose his campaign, and trying to make retaliatory threats.
Jake had never come right out and say it, though – too good at keeping his face blank and professional in public, and the former candidate too small a concern for him to spare more than a minute on.
“A surprise, then,” Javy tucked the back of his shirt a little neater, as Jake continued staring at him. “Nice gift for you to wrap up the week.”
The coffees had their lids sealed to help with indication of tampering, placed on the ledge where they were safe from the swing of Jake’s door. Jake recognized the blue and tan pattern on the cups from the bakery on Greenwich.
Sure enough, a cardamom bun was waiting alongside the fresh coffee.
Rooster liked to leave gifts underneath the loose guise of food delivery, so Jake wasn’t surprised by the heavy ring below the pastry on the drink tray, winking harmlessly in the sun. He remembered it from the latest press coverage of the famous horse racer, his wife standing with the diamond taking full display on her husband’s shoulder.
Jake didn’t know why Rooster bothered. The building staff were paid a hefty sum to turn a blind eye to anything that went in or out of the building. But he slipped the ring into his pocket and retreated back into the penthouse, leaving the second deadbolt undone.
He heard of Rooster’s return before the man stepped foot into the building. The cascade of discomfort was clear on the associates creeping in and out of his office, darting to cast a look at Jake. He hadn’t hidden his displeasure a week ago at the failed hit. But Jake could call a spade a spade, and clock a gesture of goodwill when the intent was so clear.
“Pull him in, yeah?”
Andie did as she was told with no complaint.
Bradshaw looked worse for wear: a gash on his forehead, a fresh contusion on his cheek. But he held the pleased air of many hits completed. Jobs well done, waiting for Jake to pay him out. No matter the rumors on the streets, truth serums didn’t exist. A good thing, because no one would ever earn the knowledge how these were some of Jake’s favorite moments.
“Why don’t you tell me about it?”
Rooster flashed Jake a grim smile. “I’m not stupid enough to think you don’t already know.”
Jake dropped a fat wad of cash onto the desk in front of him, neatly counted out for each person he’d wanted gone.
“I should ask how you even knew, ahead of time,” he said lightly, settling back into his chair. “Concerning, really. But there you go. Your hard work should all be accounted for.”
Rooster didn’t move to pick up the payout. “Don’t need it.”
“You’ve earned a reward, though.” Jake watched as Bradley took three steps forward, calculated and sure in his body. The chill of the room at his open collar made his muscles tense in anticipation. Every shift of cotton over his skin set his body alight.
Rooster kept his gaze low, faking docile, as if he didn’t still have the stench of a week undercover on him. “If you think so.”
Jake raised an eyebrow. “If I didn’t, you wouldn’t be standing here.”
He assessed the vision before him. “On second thought, I don’t like you standing.”
Rooster looked best in two circumstances. With a scope set up against his eye, motionless in the shadows, and like the position he quickly moved into: on his knees, hands clasped behind his back, waiting for Jake to release him from an invisible hold.
He looked up from under dark lashes now.
Jake smiled. “Come closer, darling.”
The sound of Rooster’s knees on the hardwood was soft and steady, until Bradley stopped a foot before his spread thighs. Jake extended his hand and turned so his palm was open, and beckoned with two fingers.
Rooster nuzzled into his hand. The cuffs of his sleeves would require ironing again with the way Bradshaw mouthed hot and wet along the thin fabric.
“Are you happy?” Bradley asked. His voice was level, but Jake could hear it – the need to know. His gun was still holstered by his side, but he had turned his back to the door. Given up the urge to keep a lookout in favor of sitting at Jake’s expensive Italian leather shoes.
“Of course.” Jake didn’t give compliments unless he meant them, and he didn’t declare pride in his possessions unless they were special. “Impeccable.”
Rooster knew how to read each one of Jake’s gestures by now, which made Jake love him like a perfect plaything. As good as a well tuned sports car, or the swell of the symphony rising to the top boxes.
With a single tap of his foot, Bradley started untying the laces of Jake’s shoe, methodical and mechanical with each knot. They were slipped off and placed underneath Jake’s desk, one next to the other in a neat line.
Bradshaw rubbed a warm, rough thumb over the fine bone of Jake’s ankle. He dipped his head to kiss up his shin, movement rucking up Jake’s slacks.
“I’m sorry,” he said, between feather light presses of his mouth to Jake’s skin. His mustache and scruff lit Jake’s senses on fire. “For not delivering what you wanted, when you wanted.”
Jake massaged his own cock, half-hard already, body thrumming from the touch up his leg. “You should be.”
“I know,” Bradley murmured. He pressed another kiss to the inside of Jake’s knee, open mouthed and eyes closed, as if Jake was too precious to fully touch. “I’m very sorry. I’ll keep making it up to you.”
“About to run out of people I don’t particularly like,” Jake prodded. “No more room for a mistake.”
He let his head fall back as Rooster nuzzled against his thigh, just shy of where Jake wanted him. It didn’t take long; Rooster knew Jake didn’t value patience.
“Won’t make another,” Bradley pressed his face into Jake’s crotch, rubbing his cheek against the base of his still-clothed cock. Jake ground against the hard line of Bradley’s nose, eager for the friction, before pushing Rooster back to balance on his heels.
“Give it to me.”
The holster fell with a clatter to the ground as Bradley followed Jake’s ask. His gun was discarded, forgotten as Rooster offered up what Jake wanted.
Rooster’s hunting knife was heavy in his palm. Jake slid the dull side against Bradley’s ribs, teasing through the thin fabric. “Shirt off. Go on, now.”
Bradley pulled his shirt by the collar over his head, exposing a line of bruises stretched down his chest. There was a rope burn at the base of his neck. Jake couldn’t wait to dig his finger into it, to make the man wince in pain at the direct hit to his soft spots.
He traced the handle of the knife over where Rooster was straining in the front of his pants.
“Shit,” Bradley groaned. Jake could feel his cock twitch at the light pressure. “Jake, please.”
Rooster must’ve been pent up, to be asking this quickly. Jake supposed it’d been a while since he’d had the time.
“Stay.”
Bradley nodded once, sharply. His stomach heaved from anticipation, a slow drop of sweat tracing down the middle divot of his abs, and Jake leaned in to lick it off. It earned him another groan, but Rooster held completely still.
He could never get enough of this sight: Bradshaw, with his eyes big and watching Jake’s every move, begging silently for permission to do anything. Bent and molded to his whims and delighting in making sure Jake was pleased with him.
He dragged the handle more firmly across Rooster’s erection. Rooster tried valiantly to stop the buck of his hips.
“You gonna do anything I ask from now on, Bradshaw?” He kept his voice light, fighting the urge to dig his nails into Bradley’s throat to make him acquiesce. “No questions, no backtalk?”
Rooster nodded again. Jake was going to bank on the acceptance – would pull it out if he needed to the next time Iceman came knocking. He had no qualms in pointing to Rooster falling into line in defiance of another business’s ask.
Jake pressed his knee closer so Bradley had a surface to hump against. The roll of Rooster’s hips was unsteady, tentative; Jake hadn’t given direct permission and he’d been instructed to stay still, but the neediness and Jake’s offered leg won on instinct. He could feel how hot Bradley’s cock was through his tactical pants – no doubt a wet patch was spreading the front of his boxers. Rooster’s cock always got wet and messy, the way Jake liked.
He let Rooster grind against his leg as Jake trailed the tip of the blade further up, along the beautiful curve of his body and up the slope where his neck met his shoulder. Bradley’s breath caught on a moan – he didn’t stop staring at Jake’s movements, tracing each shift of the weapon over his body with heavy-lidded eyes.
Jake jerked his knee in response to Rooster’s steady humping, earning another ragged whine. “You enjoy humping my leg like a dog, Rooster? So eager to get off?”
Bradley bent nearly in half, trying to keep the friction on his hard cock as Jake shifted back. “Yes, please, I – ”
“Make yourself useful,” Jake cut his pleading off, “Take everything off for me.”
The words needed a clear thirty seconds to register in Rooster’s head; he blinked, big eyes watery with need, trying to comprehend Jake’s request. Steady hands rubbed their way up Jake’s thighs until those deft long fingers tugged Jake’s shirt out of the waist of his pants. He shifted to allow Bradshaw better access.
Rooster wrenched the buckle open, pulling the leather from the loops so quickly it sounded like a knife slicing through paper.
Jake chuckled.
His hurried efforts turned careful once he got to Jake’s Cartier Tank, waiting for Jake to slide his hand out of the strap. The watch was set in the drawer of the desk away from harm. Jake allowed a kiss against the inside of his wrist in reward.
“Good boy.”
Rooster shivered.
Jake’s shirt got less kind of a treatment. One of the buttons nearly popped off from Bradley’s haste as he ripped it open. The soft slide of the shirt off his shoulders made a thrill run down Jake’s spine, amplified by the way Bradley watched the unveiling of more tan skin, drinking his fill. He sighed at the next course of action in Rooster’s worship: ghosting kisses over Jake’s chest, sucking and swirling his tongue over Jake’s nipple.
“Enough, get back to it.”
Jake nudged his now bare foot against Bradley’s hard cock, teasing. His erection must’ve hurt, pressed against the zipper of his pants.
“Easy,” Jake said, as Bradley pulled at his shirt again, “Otherwise I’ll take the repair out of your due.”
Bradley whined.
“What do you love more?” Jake cocked his head in mock thought, balancing the weight of the knife on two fingers. “Money for your work, or taking my clothes off?”
Rooster didn’t give a verbal answer. Instead, he undid the dark clasp of Jake’s slacks and unzipped slowly, leaning in to press his mouth to Jake’s bare stomach. He left a trail of kisses down the deepest line of Jake’s abs, chasing the flex and subtle shift as Jake brushed his fingers through his messy hair.
It wasn’t enough. After Bradley’s little excursion back to Iceman’s side, Jake was greedy for verbal confirmation, for fealty spoken out loud.
“Answer me.”
“Undressing you,” Bradley replied immediately, pressing his mouth again to Jake’s cock, hot against the swell of it. “Seeing how beautiful you are. Always grateful for it.”
Jake tipped his head back and savored the slow trail of Bradley’s mouth over the delicate apex of his thighs and cock. The stress unwound from between his shoulder blades, the reverent hold on his thighs from Rooster’s big callused hands, and the way he inhaled shakily at Jake’s crotch. A daring finger stroked over the soft cotton.
Jake allowed it. He had a meeting in an hour but there was no rush. It’d been a tough week.
He didn’t need to lift a finger, could indulge in Bradley’s touch, the man still behaving with fingers tracing along the seams of his pants. He raised his hips to allow Bradley to complete the task at hand. The slacks were thrown onto the ground to join his shirt, and his boxers joined soon after.
Bradley moaned against his thigh. Task now completed, he waited again.
The dull side of the blade rested neatly in the small divot in the side of Rooster’s jaw and his curls were soft wrapped around Jake’s fingers. He tugged so he could see Bradley’s throat exposed, gulping. He let Bradley struggle with the intense curve he was forcing his neck into for a moment longer before sweeping the curls back.
If he pressed, Jake would see pretty beads of blood well up on Rooster’s skin. But that wasn’t what it was about. Later, when he had Rooster laid out appropriately in bed. No, this was just a dance.
Jake pressed his lips to Rooster’s damp forehead. “Very good. Obedient.”
Bradley chased Jake’s lips, though his efforts failed. Jake found one of the bruises at the base of his neck and pinched, earning a yelp.
He clicked his nails against the handle of the knife. “Stand.”
Jake spared a moment to pity the way Bradley hesitated. Standing meant distance by sheer height, Rooster hovering above Jake when he’d been happy on his knees.
But his best asset followed instruction. Drawing himself up, Rooster eyed the knife now dancing against his stomach. His hands hovered in front of his thighs, waiting for the next moment he could touch Jake again.
“Get in the chair.”
He could see the question bubbling to Bradley’s mouth, but true to his promise, he didn’t talk back. Rooster waited for Jake to get to his feet. He snickered at the way Rooster was uncaring of the weapon cocked against his chest as he sat down, too enamored and fixated on Jake’s naked body.
Jake didn’t have the patience to undress Rooster fully, making do by tugging his pants down just enough so his erection was accessible and his thighs remained trapped.
His cock was as pretty as always, curved and ready for Jake to use, dripping and red at the tip. He’d feel good stretched around the mouth-watering thickness of it, always on the edge of overwhelming.
“Suck,” Jake commanded, settling to hover over Bradley’s bare cock, uncaring of how his own erection smeared pre over Rooster’s stomach. He pressed two fingers against the plush of Bradley’s mouth, easing them into the wet heat. Rooster didn’t hesitate, running his tongue in between the slim space between Jake’s fingers, sucking loud and messy as saliva glistened in the corner of his mouth. Pushing them in and out made Bradley moan, eager to follow the sway of Jake’s hand.
Jake extracted his fingers from Bradley’s mouth, making sure to leave a trail of saliva dripping on Rooster’s bottom lip.
“Grab the lube.”
Bradley’s chest heaved, face flushed a ruddy red, but he reached into Jake’s drawer with no complaint. He bit back a whine at Jake spreading the lube over his own fingers, denied the joy of one of his favorite tasks.
But Jake was too eager for Rooster to get lost in fingering him open, preparing him for his fat cock. There were times when Bradshaw would be tangled in his sheets, looming between Jake’s spread thighs and panting with eagerness as he worked Jake on thick, steady fingers. More lost in the sensation of spreading Jake open for him than Jake was himself, twitching his hips forward every time his fingers passed intentional and insistent over Jake’s prostate.
Two fingers went quickly to three. Rooster faltered when Jake moaned, loud, the sound of his pleasure bouncing off the high ceilings. A rough hand fell on Jake’s ass, squeezing as Jake rocked back on his own hand.
“Hands back,” Jake snapped. He rapped the blade over Bradley’s other knuckle, annoyed.
Bradley withdrew his errant hand immediately, looking mollified. “Sorry, Jake – you just. Could I watch?”
He placed the knife between his teeth, the tang of metal pleasant. Jake curled his spare hand around the broad expanse of Rooster’s neck, thrilled by the jump as Bradley swallowed. He pressed in with no need to say a word: a clear dissatisfaction, a denial to Rooster’s greed.
Rooster moaned, nodding his head slightly through the grip Jake had on his neck, indication he understood. He fisted the crumpled edge of his pants, knuckling white in resistance over his base urges.
The pulse under his fingertips skyrocketed as he squeezed tighter, watching the flush grow on Bradley’s chest. Jake took the knife out of his mouth and spun it in a tight circle between his fingers.
“Good,” he awarded.
He probably needed more prep, but Jake had never been good at denying himself from something he wanted. Bradley’s hands were still balled up into fists, shivering as Jake traced the tip of the sharp blade light over both nipples. He’d have time later, to cut an initial into Rooster’s chest. But now was too tricky – he doubted Rooster would be able to hold himself still enough without restraints. And Jake didn’t want to dirty his office.
Bracing his thighs, Jake teased the head of Bradley’s stiff cock against his hole, feeling the tip catch on his rim. Pride wound high and dizzying, at the sight of Bradley watching so intently at the spot where Jake would sink down and take him.
The expression on Rooster’s face was a plea. Jake had played with a rag in that pouting, a gag, made sure his mouth was filled, and this still won out: the peek of white teeth, digging into Bradley’s bottom lip, trying not to beg before Jake wanted to hear it.
He placed the knife against Rooster’s jugular, sharp side digging into the thin skin. Bradley’s eyes widened and his hands twitched where they lay. Jake enjoyed watching his Adam’s apple jump. Fear and arousal made a heady mixture; they were both intimately aware.
“Don’t move unless I tell you to,” Jake commanded.
Bradley groaned, nodding again in his obedience.
“That’s right, easy for me, sweetheart,” Jake cooed as Bradley’s mouth fell open at the slow slide of Jake’s hole around his cock. Rooster’s whole body strained to hold himself back, as he panted and shook below Jake. “Savor it, Bradshaw, you did so well.”
Rooster groaned, hands clenched on the leather arm pads of Jake’s office chair. Jake knew his tells by now: Bradley looked up at him, panting, brown eyes pleading, but he didn’t dare disobey.
Rooster’s blade was still lodged under his own chin. Jake’s hand was hot on the grip, and he relished the weight of the perfectly balanced weapon.
“Kiss me,” Jake pressed the metal into scruff and scraped skin.
Rooster complied. He moved with the knife as Jake coaxed him in, sighing in satisfaction as Bradley finally covered his mouth with his own. He never started too eager, a slow lick into Jake’s mouth, asking wordlessly for more permission. Jake parted his lips further, allowing Bradley to grow more insistent. His nose bent at the pressure of Bradley’s face pressed to his.
“You can talk now.”
“Jake,” Bradley gasped immediately, as Jake’s hips picked up speed. “Oh, God, Jake.”
“Easy, pet,” Jake laughed – the muscles of his thighs would tire soon, with the pace he was setting, but he could persist to watch the wild look in Bradley’s eyes surface. The rings of hazel Jake liked were nearly swallowed by his pupils. Jake leaned forward to lick a hot stripe over Rooster’s cheek.
“Let me make you feel good,” Rooster pleaded.
“You are,” Jake laughed, fighting off the breathy gasp as Bradley rocked his hips up just right, just so the head of his cock bumped against his prostate and his entire body lit up in pleasure.
He knew what Bradley was asking for, but Jake liked seeing the shift and clench of Bradley’s fists as he tried to keep from reaching out and playing with every part of Jake’s body he could touch – chest, ass, a strong grip at his waist.
“What would you do, to touch me right now?”
“Anything,” Bradley’s mouth trembled, open and wet as he stared at Jake’s chest. “Anything, to get my mouth on those pretty tits, mark them up, Jake, anything.”
Rooster’s cock was thick and long and perfect; Jake revelled in the drag over his prostate, moaning unabashedly because it made spit gather at the side of Bradley’s mouth. He felt split open, pleasure and the hold he had over Bradley’s attention mixing into a dizzying cocktail.
The chair creaked under the force of their movements.
“I’ve got a long list,” Jake gasped, hamstrings burning but Bradley felt too good to stop. “Ones nobody knows about. You gonna take care of it for me?”
Jake could feel the tremor in those powerful thighs, resisting from thrusting up into the tight heat around him. A master in self control, and held only by the weight of Jake’s words and the blade at his chest.
“Any way you want,” Bradley promised.
Jake leaned in to devour him. Their teeth clacked together; Jake bit down hard on Bradley’s lip, tasting copper in his mouth. He licked over the fresh wound, over Bradley’s tongue, traced kisses over Bradley’s hot cheek and nuzzled into his ear.
“You can move now. Use me,” Jake panted. “You deserve it, getting rid of the annoyances, my best asset – ”
Bradley moaned at the praise and followed command, as beautifully as he always did. A strong forearm pinned Jake down to the table, and his leg was hauled over Rooster’s shoulder. The knife fell with a clatter to the ground. Bradshaw’s hips picked up speed, sloppier in rhythm from eagerness and instruction to chase his release.
“Please, please,” Bradley begged, eyes half-rolled back as Jake forced their foreheads together. “Just wanna make you feel good, let you use me, need you on my cock – ”
He felt the strain in the back of his thighs and his lower back as Rooster bent him nearly in half. He was being split, the hot drag of Rooster’s cock in and out and in and out, and Jake could barely breathe out a “yes” before he unraveled, coming untouched against his own stomach. Bradley’s moan blanketed his own, possessed by the sight of Jake with his head thrown back. The hand around his waist shifted, until Rooster was rubbing Jake’s own come into his skin.
‘Fuck, baby, you look so good, giving me your cock,” Jake gasped as Bradley ground deep, hips rolling sloppily against Jake’s own. His nerves were going haywire, overstimulated by the hasty, rhythmless jerks of Rooster into him as he came down from his orgasm. “Such – fuck – such a good boy, following orders, what you were made for.”
He dragged two fingers through the mess on his own stomach and shoved them into Bradley’s willing mouth, a hot tongue lapping up the stickiness immediately. Rooster’s moan vibrated around his fingertips.
It was too much, the insistent thrust of Bradley’s cock into his hole; Jake felt hot all over, crying out as he was fucked and used well, so well. He couldn’t move his limbs, overwhelmed and addicted to the drag of Rooster’s cock.
“God,” Bradley’s voice cracked on his moan, whining. “I want to come in you, wanna fill you, Jake, can I?”
He was so loud, the associates passing outside would no doubt hear. Jake loved it.
Jake shoved him off, a wordless no. Rooster went readily even though his face pinched at the loss of friction around his cock. He was a sorry sight, chest heaving, standing with his erection an angry red, dripping, desperate to come. It must’ve been painful, the denial of release, but Rooster was more desperate for Jake’s instruction.
“Get yourself off with your hand,” Jake stood. He was proud that the shakiness in his legs didn’t betray him as he dragged Bradley closer. “Come on, show me .”
Bradley’s hand flew to his needy cock, flying over the shaft. The wet slick sound from his hand stroking over the mess he’d made was the only thing filling the room, save for the rough grunts falling from Rooster’s mouth.
Jake covered Bradley’s fist with his own, moving in unison.
“Come on me, baby, mark me filthy as all yours,” Jake murmured into Bradley’s ear. The effect was immediate: he felt a full body shudder roll through the man before him, as Rooster came with a ragged groan. Come splattered all over Jake’s stomach, hot and wet and layered over his own. Rooster had devolved into panting as he clutched his cock, a hand braced against the desk behind Jake.
“Good job,” Jake said, pleased with the responding whimper. “But you’re not done.”
Bradley blinked up at Jake, dull ruddy flush creeping down the entire length of his neck and down to his chest.
Jake dragged Bradley in by the chin. “Clean me up.”
This was Jake’s favorite part – the desperation still keyed into Bradley’s skin even post-orgasm. How he never tired of being eager to please. Rooster folded forward onto his knees, smearing his face into his own mess, lapping at the streaks dripping down the divots of Jake’s abs. He groaned greedily as he cleaned Jake’s stomach, eyes fluttering closed.
“How does it taste?”
“Perfect,” Bradley admitted, sucking and licking and moaning himself into a mess. “So good, Jake, ‘m so lucky to taste you – to – ”
Jake rooted his fingers into thick curls, gripping on strong and dragged Bradley’s face in directive to where he wanted him to go. He could feel the shaky breaths against his skin, the light drag of teeth where Rooster caved to instinct to nibble, just a little. He swiped another finger through the mess of their come and painted a stroke down Bradley’s sweaty cheek.
“You look good like this,” Jake commented, “Gross and filthy.”
Bradley laughed breathily against his hip.
Jake woke up with a start and couldn’t understand why, until he felt the loss of the weight behind him. The bed was still warm, and the clock blinked 3:42 AM – too early, even for a man who slept little.
The clink of a glass from the kitchen told him Bradley was still in his apartment.
Jake curled his tongue against his teeth and swallowed down the urge to go looking.
If Jake were sentimental, he would lose his mind at the way Rooster looked wearing his old shirt, stretched tight over his broad shoulders. It hung loose and too short, exposing the fine hair on his stomach. But Jake sipped at his morning coffee. Rooster was a good fuck, Jake reminded himself. Nothing more, nothing less.
Rooster didn’t talk in the mornings. He rarely did, just enjoyed sitting in the corner by the window, perched at the ledge to watch shipments arrive down below on the Hudson. He didn’t eat or take up Jake’s offer for coffee.
Jake wondered if this was just by nature. If at some point, in Rooster’s chosen profession, you decided to avoid leaving traces of yourself behind.
He caught the man’s attention with a whistle. “Money’s still yours.”
Rooster didn’t look over, but Jake caught how he bit the corner of his bottom lip. “I’ll pick it up later.”
“I’m not owing you a debt.”
“Later,” he repeated.
Jake poured himself another cup of coffee. “Suit yourself. Anything interesting today?”
Rooster took his sweet time responding, a finger trailing down the glass polished so clean Jake thought he’d tumble out sometimes. “You’ve got a new neighbor across the river.”
“Do I?”
“Might be worth keeping an eye on.”
“For pleasure or business?”
Rooster turned an unamused frown onto Jake. Jake soothed his discontent by beckoning for him to move into the kitchen.
“Take a week off,” Jake offered.
Bradshaw bristled.
“No gotchas,” Jake clarified. “Swear on the business. I don’t care what you do, long as it doesn’t get tied back to me. But go on a vacation, go somewhere warm. Vegas, for all I care. I won’t bother you.”
“Kinda sudden to figure out a vacation,” Bradley scratched behind his ear. “Don’t really need one.”
“It’s not a command. You can order Chinese and watch fucking Game of Thrones or whatever in your apartment.”
“Is that what you think I do when I’m not working?” Rooster shuffled, leaning his forearms against the marble countertops. “Bum around? Wait for you to give me something to do?”
“Unless you’ve got your own personal vendettas you’re running around the city doing, yeah.”
Rooster laughed. It was nice and deep, lilting up at the ends of his humor. He cast lidded eyes towards Jake, unfitting for this early in the morning. A car would be waiting downstairs in an hour; there was a lot that could be achieved in that amount of time. His fingers found Bradshaw’s wrist, feeling for the bruise which would be blooming from the restraints.
Jake withdrew his hand in surprise when the door clicked open. Within a second, Rooster had his gun drawn.
The happy, familiar whistle made Jake sneer. His dad emerged from the entryway, unfazed by the weapon pointed right at him.
“Call off your guard dog.” Slider’s smile didn’t falter. After all, the recommendation of Rooster to Jake was one he’d trusted, many many months ago – Slider had borrowed the skills first.
Jake waved his hand in Rooster’s direction. “He’ll play nice.”
Rooster lowered his gun, though Jake saw his finger still on the trigger. It flashed something hot in his chest, how the unnerving caution Rooster held for everything in Jake's vicinity extended even to his own father.
“Ice has a word to pass along.” Slider plucked an apple out of the fruit bowl. He bit in and continued undeterred, grinning, chomping loudly, and directing his stare at Rooster. “About this one.”
“Say more, or get out of my place.” Jake rolled his eyes. His old man had a flair for a slow-trickle of information and would never come right out and say what he wanted.
“Said you’re overextended on your contract.”
He couldn’t fight the involuntary jump of his shoulders to his ears. “Last I heard he didn’t have much need for a hired hand, these days.”
“And last I heard, you were fighting him on it.”
Bullshit called, bluff seen through. Jake hated him a little for smiling so openly in the face of Jake’s weak spots.
Rooster hid a surprised sound beneath a cough. It didn’t escape Slider’s attention to detail.
“I’m just the messenger.” His dad tossed the apple core into the trash. “Sorry about the surprise. You coming home to say hi to your mom any time soon?”
“I’ll go if you do.”
Slider’s unamused expression was enough of an answer.
“Exactly,” Jake smiled with full teeth. “Goodbye.”
“I came all this way, and that’s all the time you’re willing to give me?”
Jake rolled his shoulders, trying to work the tension out. The sudden drop-in and equally sudden disappearing acts from his dad made him antsy – an electric current under his feet he didn’t need. “Yes, because you’re spending most your days at the course, while I’m picking up the pieces from your brother-in-law’s fuck up.”
Rooster turned his eyes away, well trained to avoid familial spats.
“And you’ve got more to do there,” Slider reminded him. “Have you told Rooster here about it yet?”
He bristled. No matter how little it happened these days, Jake still hated being told what to do. What was the point of having fourteen numbers he could call at a moment’s notice and multiple hiding holes around the world if his old man still blew up his careful omissions of truth?”
“I’ll get around to it. Goodbye.”
Slider scoffed, but heeded Jake’s final warning. He vanished past the heavy front doors without so much as a backwards glance. No doubt, Jake would get a call from his mother later today, asking for his presence at dinner on Friday. He loathed the conversation already.
Rooster waited until the ding of the private elevator signaled that Slider had left the penthouse. “Don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone fighting the mighty Iceman on anything, in a good ten years. Maybe ever. Even Mom didn’t push.”
Bradshaw didn’t talk much about the family he was raised in, and kept his parents’ involvement a black box Rooster didn’t wish to uncover; every time he let something slip, Jake latched on with claws. He flipped the hunting knife in a graceful arc. Jake had seen him do it enough to realize it was a mischievous tick.
“I like being the first for many, many things,” Jake sipped his coffee. The caffeine had long lost the impact on his nerves. “The kids down in Providence only started the fighting rings because of me.”
“It explains a lot.”
“Does it?”
He didn’t like the way he was being appraised, too familiar and too close for comfort; Jake liked standing firm on top of a pedestal. He seethed as Rooster swaggered closer, his chin cocked.
“Should’ve put me out of my misery. I thought I’d lost a good income.”
“You still can,” Jake warned. “Big dramatic gestures aren’t necessarily what I’d consider an asset. Impulsive, uncontrollable. Let alone missing a clear direction.”
“Is that all I am? An asset to you, and the family?”
“Rooster,” Jake hissed. “Do not push.”
“I’m not pushing when I’m just calling it like I see it.”
“You’re seeing things that aren’t there,” Jake scoffed. “Delusion doesn’t look good on you.”
“Delusion,” Bradshaw repeated. “Delusion is what has me suspicious you’d let anyone else touch you the way I do – ”
Jake had had enough. He shoved against the bulk of Bradley’s chest, dragging and forcing him down onto the kitchen island.
“You love it,” Jake hissed, shaking Bradley, rough, uncaring that his back collided with the cool marble. “Fucking love being pressed underneath my shoe, where you belong.”
Bradley knew how to get out of a hold around his arm. He knew how to disarm an assailant in any manner of ways, pull their arms out of their sockets without breaking a sweat and could bring a man to his knees.
He let Jake pin his arms down to the counter and tipped his head back.
Manhattan winters weren’t as brutal as upstate, but Jake could feel the blanket of gray dragging him down. Smoke stacks across the river and infuriating business partners to control made every fiber in his body tense; he threw down his wallet and dialed before he could second guess himself.
“Thursday, Miami. Get yourself there.”
The flight was uneventful, barring for Jake’s own stress burrowing deep into his muscles. It’d been too long since he played and the keys to relief were at the end of a two hour flight.
The driver waiting brought him quickly out to the estate, palm trees swaying in invitation as they pulled past the marina. The sun was high, the air was fresh — Jake inhaled and tucked his sunglasses into the collar of his shirt.
The figure already by his pool was no surprise, nor the champagne waiting in two flutes. Bradley followed instructions to a T now, even if there were competing priorities. Jake leaned against the doorway, in no hurry to move away from the view.
“You’ve made yourself comfortable.”
Bradley sent a glance over his sunglasses, unsurprised by Jake’s sudden presence.
“Easy in and out,” he replied. “A little too easy for my taste. Are you replacing that handle in the back?”
“On my to do.”
Jake didn’t hide his approval at Bradley’s figure, lounged on one of the pool chairs with tan on display everywhere except for a short, tight pair of swim trunks. He wanted to tip champagne over the divots of Bradley’s torso, to get his mouth on heated skin and wring his plaything boneless. “How was London?”
“Fine.” Bradley laid back down, unnervingly collected in the way he didn’t back down from Jake’s challenging look. He’d dealt with a few more loose ends than expected. “What do you have for me?”
“Nothing,” Jake answered, honest. “Consider this the vacation I offered.”
Bradley tipped his head towards the drinks. “Should celebrate then.”
The sound of a boat pulling away from one of the neighbor’s private docks buzzed in the air, the waterway behind the house busier this time of year with everyone escaping dreary seasons. Jake wondered if any of the neighbors would have enough of a stick up their ass to complain about the sounds which he’d be wringing out of Bradshaw’s mouth.
“Here’s what you’re going to do.” Jake undid the buttons of his own shirt, striding with the sole purpose of getting Bradley between his thighs. “You’re going to do whatever I need you to do in the house this week. What I want, you’ll listen. And then at the end of the week, I’ll give you someone to take out.”
He rested his weight over Bradley’s lap. Jake tugged the sunglasses off the bump of Bradley’s nose – a new fracture, a reminder that his best was human. He pressed a kiss to Bradley’s mouth, light. There was time later to make him beg with his tongue.
Bradley brushed his fingers over Jake’s lips. “You don’t own me, Jake.”
Jake scoffed. “Not even a little?”
He didn’t hesitate to grope Bradley’s chest, spreading firm hands down the tight muscles of his stomach, and down to where Bradley was half-hard.
Before he had time to blink, Bradley flipped their positions with a knee holding Jake’s torso down and a strong grip pinning Jake’s wrists to the pool chair.
“What the hell are you – ”
“Stop moving.”
“Fuck, Rooster,” Jake snarled. “Let my arms go.”
“Not until you tell me why you needed that man on Tuesday. The one you met at the diner?”
Jake glared. “Spying on me?”
“Keeping watch. You knew that already,” Bradley sniffed. “I have to because you haven’t run a proper background check in months. You’re getting complacent, Jake.”
“You’re jealous, more like,” Jake shot back, straining against Bradley’s grip. He didn’t want to hear what Bradley had found, because his words held some truth: Jake had gotten too comfortable with a shadow behind him.
“Yes,” Bradley tugged one of Jake’s nipples until it was a hard peak, stiffened and pink under his pinches. “I don’t like him.”
“I don’t do – fuck,” Jake arched into Bradley’s abuse of his other nipple. “He’s useful in ways you aren’t.”
“I’m useful in every way. And he’s probably got ties with the feds. I smelled a rat the moment I saw him,” Bradley growled. “Don’t take him up on his offer.”
“So you only think that – ah.” Jake shivered as Bradley ground the palm of his hand down on Jake’s cock as it filled.
He was so caught off guard by Bradley’s shift in demeanor, he couldn’t think – could only focus on how his cock ached to be touched.
“Did you check if you were followed here?”
Jake glared. “Yes.”
“No, you didn’t.” Bradley said, light as if he were commenting on the weather. “You didn’t because I cleaned it up for you. Should stop, maybe. You’re getting lazy, and it’s a bad look.”
Bradley wasted no time in pulling off the rest of Jake’s clothes, tossing them uncaringly onto the patio. Jake wanted to bitch because those were new, but he was shut up by another groping of his cock and balls, Jake’s legs falling apart in an instant.
Bradley shifted so he was kneeling at the edge of the lounge, maneuvering Jake until his legs were curled up against his hip. A quick check of Bradley’s fingers brought a wry smile to his face, cutting through the dark anger on his face. Jake was prepped, hole slick with lube, opening easily as Bradley pressed two fingers in.
He’d imagined the sweet, slow side of Bradley’s cock when he’d opened himself up before his flight, one hand braced against the shower wall, a frustrated tremble through his legs as he held himself off. It’d been a few hours ago, and he needed more but Bradley didn’t give it to him: the head of his cock caught on Jake’s rim, teasing for a minute, before Bradley slid all the way in.
“Fuck,” Jake dropped his head back, thighs straining as Bradley rolled his hips to get deeper. “A second, Jesus.”
They didn’t usually do it like this, but Bradley seemed like he wanted it to hurt. Wanted Jake to feel the impact of his hips, a pain when he sat down tomorrow, wanted to leave red marks all along his back as Bradley shifted him forward by the force of his thrusts.
Something Jake missed must’ve spooked Bradley.
“Don’t complain,” Bradley commanded. “You’ll stay still while I fuck you. Teach you to remember what world you’re dealing with.”
Jake squirmed as Bradley smacked his thigh.
“Don’t complain.”
Jake groaned, but shifted himself down further onto Bradley’s cock. “Okay, okay.”
Bradley teased with the angle of his hips – every purposeful miss of Jake’s prostate earned him a petulant whine. Bradley’s nostrils flared as Jake cried out, unashamed of how high and loud the sounds were. The muscles of his neck strained at the bend Bradley was forcing him into, and at the pleasure of being split open.
“Think I’ll get the gag next,” Bradley thrust two fingers into Jake’s mouth. “Always making me shut up, time for me to make you drool around it. It’ll look pretty between your lips, all messy from sucking me.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Jake bit out, tilting his hips up to give Bradley a better angle. “I’ll fucking kill you if you do.”
Bradley tilted his head mockingly. “I’m sure.”
He hooked one arm under Jake’s leg and moved the other up around Jake’s neck, squeezing in warning.
“Don’t be a pussy,” Jake spat, an exhilarating shiver running down his spine at the pressure, “Make me feel it.”
“Do you know how easy it was for me to slip in here?” Bradley grunted, the hard edge of his hip snapping against the back of Jake’s thighs as he fucked him. “Could’ve gotten you the moment you stepped through the door.”
Bradley’s tight grip on his hips spoke to something deeper.
“You didn’t.”
“Could’ve,” Bradley continued. “Anyone could’ve. Breathe, now.”
One of Bradley’s calluses had a rough edge. Jake felt it drag against the skin of his neck as he inhaled.
Bradley tightened the hold he had, choking to the point Jake saw stars in his vision. Proof of power, that there was only one trained killer in the area, and Bradley was right: Jake was weaker against someone hired to dispose of people. He enjoyed the tight grip around his airway and struggled, thrashing against Bradley’s thrusts.
He gasped when Bradley released his grip, gulping oxygen back into his lungs.
“Another,” Bradley instructed.
“Yeah,” Jake gasped. “Fuck, yes – ”
His whole body was taut, shaking and holding himself back. Jake felt himself melting under the dark, feverish expression on Bradley’ face: drinking in each of Jake’s whines, eye darting over every wrinkle of pleasure in his face. Lip bitten tight between teeth because Bradley was readily vocal when he was the one being told what to do but far more controlled the other way.
It made Jake dreadfully possessive. Sick with a greed to have Bradley force his mouth around the head of a pistol.
Bradley pressed into Jake’s windpipe again. His eyes clouded, chest shuddering as he fought for air. The dizziness and the hot palm against his neck made his cock jump, as Bradley’s thrust picked up speed.
Bradley didn’t release his hold until short fingernails scrabbled at the back of his hand.
“More,” Jake groaned through coughs, “Bradley, God, I can take it.”
He reached for where they were connected, the taut stretch of his hole around Bradley’s cock, moaning himself at the teasing sensation. He couldn’t wait to press one of his more expensive knives against the skin of Bradley’s neck. The silver of the blade would be beautiful in contrast against the tan, exertion making the veins blue-green and easy to trace.
The thought of blood spilling onto the new sheets he’d gotten for the master bedroom made Jake’s cock jolt, jumping as Bradley aimed right for his prostate. He needed to come, wanted to, wanted to make Bradley force him down and take all his frustration.
Sweat dripped down Bradley’s forehead onto Jake’s cheek. “Whore.”
“Fuck you,” Jake gasped, thighs shaking. The sound of their bodies, the stick of sweat under the hot sun, the musk of Bradley’s body as he dipped low to lick into Jake’s mouth – all of it made his blood sing.
“Scouting other hitmen,” Bradley snarled. “Stupid fucking move.”
Jake drew him in deeper with his legs. “I didn’t hire – oh, oh – didn’t hire you to stroke your ego.”
“You don’t hire me at all,” Bradley murmured, “Isn’t that sweet? Fuck, your ass is so tight.”
They were unable to leave each other alone — since the floodgates had opened, Jake couldn’t spare more than two days before he craved another hit, a detriment to the line of work they were both in. He craved the bruises, the marks left just a tad too high on his neck so that Jake would have to spend the day making sure the collars of his shirts didn’t slip. And Bradley always found his way into his apartment, into the office, depositing his calling cards onto Jake’s front doorstep in honor of having freedom to do whatever he wanted under Jake’s thumb.
Bradley choked him again, with his right hand this time as he braced himself against the back of the pool chair for leverage. Jake let himself sink into the seizing of his lungs, the heat on his face. His stomach was a mess of pre, cock drooling more as Bradley let go.
“Gonna come,” he hissed in warning.
He shouldn’t have said a thing. Jake cried out in disappointment as Bradley gripped the base of his cock, refusing him his orgasm. He shifted and shuddered, but didn’t protest even as Bradley played unfairly. Bradley wrenched his head back with a tight grip in his hair, half-kissing half-biting Jake’s mouth, tugging Jake’s bottom lip out between his teeth.
He needed to have Bradley’s hand around his cock. Jake scratched down Bradley’s back, uncaring of the long marks he was leaving.
“Say it.”
Jake shook his head. He couldn’t give Bradley the satisfaction.
Bradley pressed in again, so hard and sudden Jake didn’t have time to take a breath. He coughed, wheezing, as Bradley released his throat.
“Say it, Jake.”
The feeling of Bradley’s cock opening him up, hitting his prostate, body bending him impossibly in half so that Jake could feel the strain in his hamstrings and back – all of it had him close to breaking, close to coming if only Bradley would just touch him.
Bradley didn’t let up, only reaching for Jake’s dripping cock to stave off his orgasm again, fingers circling tight at the base. “You’ll regret it if you don’t, you spoiled thing, c’mon. ”
Bradley was fucking into him so hard Jake thought he could feel his brain rattling against his skull. He was whining, high and reedy, half floating above his body as pleasure bloomed in his gut and he needed to come, wanted the release, wanted satisfaction and to forget weeks and weeks of stress.
Bradley dug a nail meanly into the slit of Jake’s cock and he gave up. He was spoiled, got most everything he wanted with force or well-oiled words, and Bradley was as much a right hand in his power as Jake granted him flexibility. He twitched his hips up, sobbing out a single “please”, begging for Bradley’s touch.
What Bradley needed from him – a promise of safety, loyalty in the twisted sense – Jake must have fulfilled. He took pity and fisted Jake’s cock, sliding the slick head through his tight fist until Jake came with a shout, spurting ropes of come over his own chest.
He couldn’t think, or hear anything except a buzzing in his ears. Faintly, he was aware of Bradley cursing at the sight of him, shaking and chest heaving. He hurt so good all over, oversensitive and aching, Bradley’s cock giving him pleasure and pain tied in one so well he couldn’t tell which was which.
“Come in me,” Jake gasped as Bradley’s hips stuttered. “Fill me, let me feel you, please.”
Bradley spat into his open mouth. Jake screwed his eyes shut, moaning so loud he was glad there was a high wall between his house and the next.
“Let me own you, Bradley, Bradley – ”
“Thought you already did.” He snapped his hips, frenzied, chasing his own orgasm with Jake’s body as a means to an end. “Made sure everyone who sees me – fuck – they know, everyone knows – ”
Bradley came with a guttural groan, fucking in deep as he tipped forward, fingers digging hard into the deep grooves of Jake’s hips. Jake clutched onto his shaking shoulders, moaning weakly as he felt Bradley’s come fill his hole, Bradley pumping his hips further, as if not wanting anything to leak out.
There would be expansive bruises over his throat the next day. Jake touched the tender skin and wasn’t surprised that his next words came out raspy. “What’d you find?”
“Too much,” Bradley panted, cheeks blotchy from exertion. “Too much for me to not need to take care of it, already.”
“A mistake,” Jake acknowledged.
“You don’t make mistakes.”
Jake sighed. “I’ve been distracted.”
He bit into the meat of Bradley’s bicep, enjoying the hiss of approval as his canines dug into the brand – healed over for about three months now, Jake’s choice in a thin raised oval. Bradley tasted like champagne and traces of chlorine from a dip earlier in the pool when Jake kissed him, messy.
“This? A start. You let me own you, fully, there won’t be any other mistakes.”
Bradley reared above and Jake watched the sun cast his plaything’s eyes in shadow, searching, ready for anything even after pushing Jake to the brink. He wanted something here, in the Florida heat, just as much as Jake did.
“No others?”
“You have permission,” Jake took Bradley’s thumb into his mouth, sucking until Bradley’s eyes darkened again. “To do whatever you see fit about the others.”