Burden (7 page)

Brennan’s breath hissed in and out, his hands fisted in the cushions of the couch. Keegan continued his assault, nibbling carefully and moving his lips and tongue up, down and around the shaft, driving Brennan crazy until he begged.

“Jesus, Keegan, now.”

Keegan opened his mouth and took Brennan deep, sucking first shallow and then strong, alternating the amount while backing off and taking Brennan’s length to the back of his throat.

It didn’t take long for Brennan to shout. His body became rigid beneath Keegan’s, his pelvis pressed against Keegan’s face so Keegan was forced to take all of Brennan’s cock, which he did without complaint, swallowing everything Brennan had to give.

Many moments later, with his breath heaving, Brennan relaxed into the couch, his penis slipping from Keegan’s mouth. Keegan rested his chin on Brennan’s belly and stared at the man he’d just sucked off. Responsive didn’t even begin to describe him. What he wanted to do was shuck his own pants, spread Brennan’s thighs and slide into what he knew would be a tight ass.

But he didn’t because he wasn’t a complete asshole. He’d overwhelmed Brennan enough for the day.

“Fuck me.”

Keegan raised an eyebrow and chuckled while he drew a lazy circle around Brennan’s belly button. “I thought about it, but I think we’ll start with this.”

Brennan’s head came up, and he looked down his chest at Keegan, a grin on his face. Brennan could have no idea how glad Keegan felt about that. He’d been half-afraid Brennan would tell him to get the fuck out of his house and never come back.

Wasn’t gonna happen. Keegan definitely had more plans in store for Brennan.

What the hell had he just done?

Who cared?

He lay like a limp noodle beneath Keegan, his body sweaty and sated. For the time being. How long had it been since he’d come that hard? Shit, how long had it been since he’d come at all? More than a year for sure.

“You want some, baby? I can give you whatever you want. Blowjob, my ass, my pussy…”

“You know why I’m here. I need a name, Tonya. I can’t help you if you won’t give me a name.”

“I don’t have a name. So let’s have some fun.”

“I can see straight through you. You’re scared of something. What is it?”

“Brennan.”

Brennan sucked in a breath, the flashback disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

“I hate it when you do that trance-like shit. Scares the hell outta me.”

Brennan blinked, trying to get his bearings. Keegan knelt next to him, rubbing Brennan’s hands together as if he were trying to get the circulation going again.

“I’m s-sorry.”

“Fuck that sorry shit. How long has this been happening?” Keegan stroked his thumb across Brennan’s eyebrow and then helped him sit up.

“Not long. J-just for about a m-month or so. Hits me outta the blue sometimes. It’s there and th-then it’s gone.”

“And?”

Brennan closed his eyes, still panting hard from his release. “And nothing. I can’t f-fucking remember anything that happened.”

“What do you see when it hits you?”

Brennan licked his lips and sighed, thinking back to the flash of memory. “A w-woman. A redhead. Sexy but too much makeup. Hooker?” The thought made his stomach flip. What would he have been doing with a hooker? Except, thinking of the woman didn’t make him hard, and if he had a thing for her, surely, at the very least, he’d have some reaction to her. He had nothing. And he wasn’t sure what made him think of her as a hooker, but it felt right somehow. “She’s trying t-to tease m-me, but she’s scared of something. Her name is Tonya. A car. A barrier. Sparks, trees, fire.”

“Tonya what?” Keegan had picked up a pen from somewhere and was making notations on a piece of paper from the file.

“What?”

“Tonya. What’s her last name?”

“Who’s Tonya?”

Keegan turned to him then, confusion written all over his face. His eyebrows were slanted together, his eyes slits. “Brennan, you just told me the woman’s name was Tonya.”

“I did?” Brennan sat forward and propped his elbows on his knees, desperately trying to recall what he’d said.

“Yes. You said, ‘She’s trying to tease me, but she’s scared of something. Her name is Tonya.’ Then you said a car, a barrier, sparks—”

“Holy shit.” Brennan shot off the couch, his jeans around his thighs nearly making him take a nosedive onto the coffee table.

“Whoa.” Keegan gripped the waistband of Brennan’s jeans just in time, keeping him upright.

Keegan’s knuckles grazed Brennan’s bare butt cheek, but he barely felt it or the hand that grasped his and guided him to sit again.

Brennan swallowed hard. His brain swam. He’d remembered something more than a fleeting snippet. He’d given her a name to go with the face that haunted him night after night. It was like flicking on a light bulb. Suddenly a dozen things slammed into him at once.

“We’d m-met at a café, a truck stop. She’d called m-me and said she had information for me, but I had to meet her right then or she was gone. She tried to play it off like there was n-nothing wrong, tried to m-make me want her. I could see she was s-scared of someone or something, but she wouldn’t tell m-me who. Said we had to leave.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, felt the soothing touch of Keegan’s hand on his back, rubbing small circles. Dammit. It was right there. Right on the tip of his tongue. Why couldn’t he fucking remember what happened next?

“W-we got in my car and drove.”

“Relax,” Keegan whispered in his ear, the smooth sound calming him. “Don’t push this or it will be that much harder to retrieve.”

“You s-sound like fucking M-Michael.”

“Uh, yeah, don’t ever say the words fucking and Michael in the same sentence again.” Keegan’s fingers squeezed Brennan’s shoulder, and Brennan snorted despite the situation.

Grinding his palms into his eyes, Brennan snarled in defeat. “Jesus. That’s the f-farthest I’ve gotten in the past year.” He turned and looked at Keegan. “What the fuck are you?”

Chapter Eight

Keegan smiled. “
What
am I? A man. Who am I?” He shrugged and leaned closer, breathing in the scent of Brennan’s neck. “Maybe someone who can help you find out what happened on that mountain.” He lipped at the skin just below Brennan’s jaw, waiting for the other man to back off or realize what they’d done and put a stop to it. Instead, Brennan tilted his head, offering better access.

“Whatever,” Brennan said distractedly. “You could say you were M-Mahatma Gandhi, for all I care right now.” He rubbed his forehead against Keegan’s, his eyes turning sad. “I’m not really sure I w-want to remember what happened, ya know?”

Keegan cradled Brennan’s head and swiped his thumbs over his cheekbones, forcing his eyes up so he could look into those bottomless depths. “Remembering it would help you heal, and if I can be the one to help, I will.”

“You don’t even know m-me.”

“I don’t need to. Annndd…I’ve sucked you off. I know what you taste like. Surely that gives me some kind of in.”

Brennan groaned and attacked Keegan’s mouth, meshing their lips together. Long seconds later, breathing hard, Brennan broke the kiss and stood as if his pants were on fire. “Just call me easy.” He pulled his jeans up and zipped them over his semi-erection.

Keegan licked his lips, recalling the feel of the smooth hardness on his tongue and the sweet saltiness of Brennan’s come. He stood too. “If you’re easy, then I must be greedy because I told you last night I shouldn’t have touched you.” He grabbed his discarded shirt and yanked it over his head, but not before reaching out and running his fingers over the long scars on Brennan’s abdomen. “I can’t seem to keep my hands off you.”

Brennan gave him a shy smile before moving away and picking up his own shirt. He’d just tugged it over his head when there was a sharp rap on the door. A second later, it flew open.

Keegan had his holster unsnapped and his weapon almost drawn as a tiny pixie of a woman blew in. She was the quintessential image of what he imagined the term bluehair would look like. A whole lot of gray-blue hair piled on top of the head of a person who, remarkably, didn’t resemble an
elderly
lady. So the hair was sort of out of place. She looked like a little ninja in disguise.

Jesus. He’d almost killed an innocent old woman.

The question was, had he done it to protect himself, or Brennan?

“Knock, knnnooockk…” She swaggered into the room and then came to a surprised halt after toeing the door closed, her gaze coming to rest on Keegan. “Oh, my. Brenny, you’ve been keeping things from me.”

Keegan hid a smile but glanced at Brennan, whose cheeks reddened.
Brenny?
he mouthed.

Brennan’s top lip slid upward in a snarl, and Keegan wanted to kiss him again.

The woman practically purred and sashayed toward Keegan, a box under one slim arm. She pushed an age-spotted hand in his direction, her lips pursed in a pout, and Keegan envisioned a 1920s flapper. He took her hand in his and gently kissed her knuckles. It was the only thing he could do faced with such a proposition.

“I…I d-don… No.” Brennan shook his head in denial of keeping things from her, and Keegan smiled.

Poor baby. Flustered by the eccentric woman who could only be the aunt who lived in the main house.

“Aren’t you handsome. Brenny? Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

“Y-yes. K-Keegan, my Aunt Caroline. Aunt Caroline, K-Keegan…”

Keegan would have shaken the woman’s hand, but she hadn’t yet relinquished his. “Keegan Monroe, ma’am. Pleased to meet you.”

“Mmm, yes. Keeeeegan.” She lifted a brow, and Keegan was half-afraid she might lick him. He looked to Brennan for help but found the other man trying hard not to laugh.

“It’s certainly time Brenny brought someone home other than that Stan character. Never did like him much. Too stuffy, if you ask me. Just something off about him.”

Keegan filed that bit of information away for later analyzing since he’d gotten the same feeling, and latched on to the comment about not bringing home men.

“He doesn’t bring home many…friends?” Keegan ignored the strained groan behind him and fought a chuckle.

Caroline finally pulled her hand free and put it over her heart. “Oh, my, no. Never.” She leaned closer to Keegan and whispered conspiratorially, “Too self-conscious.”

“Shit. Really, Aunt Caroline? I’m s-standing right here.” Brennan shoved Keegan out of the way. The move was the first truly assertive act he’d witnessed from Brennan and made him wonder even more who Brennan had been in the past.

“Anywho.” Caroline didn’t appear the least bit contrite. She shook her head as if clearing her thoughts and faced her nephew. “This box was on your bottom step, sweetie.”

Brennan took the box from her and turned it over. “Who’s it from?”

She patted his cheek. “That I can’t tell you. I just got back from Zumba class, so if you didn’t see who left it, I can’t help. So. What are you boys doing today?”

Keegan grinned. He liked
Brenny’s
aunt.

“Something fun, I hope.” She returned her attention to Keegan. “Brenny doesn’t get out much.”

Keegan nodded sincerely. “I will most definitely make sure he has fun.” They’d already started having
fun
when their encounter had taken a detour off a cliff with Tonya. He’d see what he could do about revisiting their course as soon as he got Aunt Caroline out of the apartment.

Caroline actually clapped with delight. “Oh good. Well then, ta-ta. I had only stopped by to say good morning.” She turned away and headed for the door, but Keegan heard her mumbled parting shot. “And to get rid of
Stan
.”

The door clicked shut. Keegan stared at it, wondering what exactly had just occurred. Brennan didn’t move either, and a glance at the man showed he was wondering the same thing.

Brennan blinked. Aunt Caroline was a force of her own nature. A tornado who did anything and said anything she wanted. A woman who, at the moment, had embarrassed the shit out of him.

“Sorry ’bout that. Her. Aunt C-Caroline, I m-mean.”

He dropped the box on the sofa. The sofa where Keegan had just sucked him off. Jesus, what if Aunt Caroline had walked in on them? What if he were still spread out over that sofa with his jeans around his thighs and his junk hanging out? Fuck. He was really going to have to do something about remembering to lock the damn door since his aunt had zero qualms about walking right in.

“No problem,” Keegan murmured, coming closer in a way Brennan could only view as predatory. “Besides, I kinda like her idea about having fun.”

Brennan stood his ground and lifted his chin. He licked his lips, his dick going hard in an instant. “I’m not sure that’s the kind of fun she was t-talking about.” Why the hell was he trying to talk Keegan out of sex?

Keegan snorted out a laugh and tugged Brennan close with a hand around his nape. “I think that’s exactly what your aunt was referring to. She seems to have only your welfare at heart.” He stepped forward, forcing Brennan backward.

They danced their way across the living area toward one of two doors along the far wall.

“How do you know w-which one is my bedroom?” Brennan tugged at Keegan’s shirt, stripping it off the man once more.

“I figure if I hit the bedroom door, we use the bed. If I hit the bathroom door, we go the shower route.”

“Oh.” Brennan’s back hit the wall between the doors.

“Have a preference? I mean, it is your home. You could direct me…”

“Maybe w-we should lock the door this time.” Brennan’s heart pounded so loudly in his ears, he was amazed he’d thought of that little tidbit. Hell, he was shocked as shit he’d remembered it at all considering most days he couldn’t comprehend what a dollar bill was,
and
at the moment he had a feeling he was about to be fucked six ways to Sunday.

“Hell yes.” Keegan whirled and in four impossibly long strides was twisting the dead bolt then returning in seconds. “Now. Where were we?”

“About here.” Brennan stuck his fingers in the waistband of Keegan’s jeans and pulled until they were smashed chest to chest, cock to cock and lips to lips. This, at least, he could handle without fucking it up.
This
came second nature. The feel of another man in his arms. He meshed their mouths together and thrust his tongue against Keegan’s. His head rapped on the wall as Keegan fought to get even closer.