Chapter 14

“So, not too dumb, after all, I guess,” Riley muttered under his breath.

Cashel gave him a grimace, followed by a smile. “Well, we have to give it to him. He’s more than a pretty face.”

“Does this situation amuse you or something, you fucker?” After all, catching Dylan by following the credit cards Cashel had given him proved fruitless. Quite quickly, the guy had gotten rid of them somehow, and now, they didn’t exactly have a lead on him.

“A little,” Cashel replied.

Riley gave his best friend a murderous look.

“What?” Cashel asked, grinning. “He’s giving you a run for your money. I think he’s smarter than a lot of women who tried to get you to settle down before. I’d say you should think about wanting to see Dylan again. He might outsmart you.”

“I can’t believe it. You really think you’re funny. When was the last time you told a joke?”

“I don’t tell jokes.”

“Exactly.”

“Come on, are you eager for that ball and chain that much?”

“Who’s talking about that?” Riley ground his teeth hard so that Cashel would take the hint. “I just want to fuck him.”

“You could fuck anyone. Why him in particular? You can snap your fingers and have women rush into a stampede to land in your bed. And it would be the same with guys if you swing that way, now.”

“It has to be him,” Riley said stubbornly. When Cashel got all rational with him like that, it was true that he couldn’t just say what pushed him to want Dylan like that. He could say something like how the guy owed him big time, but that wasn’t it. According to his bastard of a friend, Dylan had run away as repayment for that. For anyone looking from outside, that could be it, of course. The straight macho dude who found a warm hole to park his dick during his stint in the slammer would go back to fucking pussies once out. That was a no brainer. Even a fucker like Cashel could say it wasn’t.

But it also had to do with something Riley couldn’t explain. He knew he wanted Dylan, and that was final. His entire body ached; he wanted to put his hands on the guy and his cock inside him, and then watch him shudder and hear him moan while getting fucked within an inch of his sanity.

“Okay. I won’t argue with you. Usually, you have great gut instinct. When it comes to business, not women.” Cashel put his hands up in surrender.

“Dylan’s not some chick.”

“Yes, that’s new. Well, maybe this time your gut instinct applies to other than business. From what I’ve seen and known of him, I’d say he’s a good guy. Let’s see what we can do to find him.”

“And how are we going to do that?” Riley asked, without hiding his irritation. “We lost his track, right?”

“Do you know me since yesterday or something?” Cashel gave him a hard, questioning look. “Obviously, you’re smitten if you don’t even recognize me, your best friend.”

Riley pursed his lips first, but then he realized how ridiculous the situation seemed to an outsider. “You might be right about that, who knows?”

Cashel patted his shoulder. “It wouldn’t be the end of the world. Just make sure you don’t forget about inviting me to the wedding.”

Riley snorted. “Okay, fucker. You’re on. Make sure you bring a fat check as a wedding gift, and you’ll get a place at the head of the table.”

“Will do,” Cashel assured him.

Dylan adjusted his cap and made sure no strand of hair escaped from it. He had cut his hair short enough so that it wasn’t a bother, but it was by force of habit that he was doing that. It was pretty difficult to adjust to his new life. At first, after being inside for so long – even the time spent at Cashel’s hiding place counted as that, since he hadn’t gone out of the house for more than one hour or so at a time with just one exception – he felt like he was exposed on all sides. People walked freely around him, going about their days, without anyone to tell them when to sleep, when to eat, when to take a shower.

If he looked closely, it wasn’t like that, though. They were stressed, pressed, on break from the powers that be only for a bite, and then back to being cogs in the machine.

“Hey, yo, Martin,” his boss called out for him.

It took him a moment to remember that was his name now. “Yeah.”

“Stop staring like an idiot and get to work.”

Dylan turned towards the pancake station. His life was that now. Work all day, sleep all night. It would take him some time to adjust, for sure.

He was busy with flipping the pancakes and smearing them with whatever the order said from the line of big jars, when his boss walked towards him with seemingly some clear purpose. “There’s someone here to see you. Make it quick. They’re sitting by the door.”

His boss took his place, muttering something under his breath about work ethics and whatnot. Dylan didn’t move. He didn’t know anyone. He wasn’t making any new friends, and there were no old ones. Who could be asking about him?

There was one possibility. Maybe two, although the second was less likely. Either way, he needed to make himself scarce and fast. Good thing he kept his meager savings upon his person, which allowed him to escape from any situation fast.

He ignored his boss, who wanted to remind him to be quick, and headed for the backdoor. He threw the cap on a nearby shelf, along with the apron and pushed the door wide open.

He was barely out in the street when he crashed into a hard mass. Before he could fall on his ass, he was caught by the waist by firm hands.

“Riley,” he whispered, the shock of seeing the man after what seemed like an eternity too much for him to manage more than one word.

“You’re cute with short hair,” Riley said with a smile, and before Dylan had a chance to say anything, he kissed him hard on the mouth. Then, after freeing his lips, “You were right he’d try to bolt.”

The last words weren’t addressed to him, and Dylan turned his head to see Cashel, in his usual stiff suit and practical glasses, walking casually towards them.

“Now,” Riley turned his attention on him, “are you going to be a good kid and walk by yourself, or do I have to throw you over my shoulder and smack your ass to make you behave?”

The door behind him flew open before he had a chance to get a word out. “Martin, what the hell?” his boss bellowed. “You’re not on break, you useless--”

“I would stop right there if I were you, sir,” Cashel intervened smoothly.

The way Cashel was carrying himself always made an odd impression on people, or so Dylan thought, because his boss remained silent.

Only for a moment, though. “I don’t know who you people are, but Martin here is my employee and he has work to do. You can always talk to him outside his working hours.”

“He quits,” Riley said loudly.

“What do you mean by that?” Dylan’s boss tried again.

Dylan watched how Cashel moved fast, pushing the man inside with one hard shove and closing the door, blocking it with a small metal stick. Why Cashel walked around, having such things on him, was beyond him. But he couldn’t pretend he understood much from what Riley’s enigmatic friend was doing on a regular basis.

The door shook and continued to do so, as they walked away.

Riley held Dylan’s hand firmly in his, as they took the backseat. Cashel was driving, and a short exchange in the rearview mirror was enough. Mission accomplished. Now the only difficult part was to keep silent. He had so many things to tell Dylan, to yell at him. But most of all, he wanted to take him out of his clothes, look at him, and then bend him over for a good fuck.

He couldn’t do any of that, with Cashel present. That meant he had to settle for holding the guy’s hand, warm and damp in his. Riley didn’t risk looking at Dylan for too long. If he did that, he wouldn’t be responsible for what followed.

Dylan didn’t move, either, but Riley could tell that he was short from starting to squirm like a trapped little animal. He deserved to sweat a little over the punishment that would follow, but Riley didn’t want him to suffer for too long. Cashel had made reservations at the best hotel in the closest town to that shithole where they had found Dylan, and in less than half an hour, they’d be there.

And then, he would start showing Dylan why running from him wasn’t an option.

The hotel room was clean and decent, but somehow Dylan didn’t believe that it was up to Riley’s standards, because the man was pacing the floor, hands behind his back, with a deep frown on his face.

In turn, Dylan had chosen to sit gingerly on the bed. Throughout their ride there, Riley had remained silent, and Dylan hadn’t dared to say a word, either.

“So, why did you run?” Riley started.

“Didn’t Cashel tell you?”

“He did, but I want to hear it from your mouth.”

Riley stopped in front of him, and Dylan looked up, with guilty eyes. “Riley,” he whispered, “you’ve done enough for me.”

“Yeah,” Riley said and his eyes seemed less hard for a moment. “But you haven’t done enough in return.”

Dylan licked his lips. “What do you want? I don’t have money. Do you want me to sell a kidney? If that’s what you want, I’ll do--”

He stopped talking as Riley fiddled with his belt and then the zipper on his jeans and took out his sizeable cock. “Don’t sell a kidney. I like you whole, and I don’t want money from you anyway. But you could start by putting your mouth here and begin paying your dues.”

Dylan blinked a few times. Alright, so Riley wanted his cock sucked. That was fine. But didn’t he have now dozens of admirers at his feet, ready to lick his balls and suck his cock, and do whatever he wanted?

“Did you forget how to do it?” Riley teased him. He brought his hard cock close to Dylan’s lips and began to paint them with precum.

The smell of that alone brought back memories. Dylan opened his mouth slowly, his eyelids dropping. Riley caught him firmly by the back of the head and pushed his cock through. They both moaned at the same time, Dylan at having his mouth full again with the only cock he ever remembered liking to suck on, and Riley probably in anticipated pleasure.