Authors: Josh Lanyon
It seemed to lift a weight off him Taylor hadn’t even known was there. He smiled at Bill.
“Thanks, Bill. Goodnight.”
Brandt, William and MacAllister, Taylor
November 15, 2013 (Friday)
Investigator arrives at the residence of William Brandt, Sr. located at 76011 Mellinger Road, Mist Bend, OR 97064. Investigator observes the blue 2010 Toyota Land Cruiser currently registered to William Brandt in the driveway. Investigator establishes stationary vehicle surveillance with a view of the driveway of the residence.
Investigator observes the blue 2010 Toyota Land Cruiser exit the drive of the residence and depart the area. Mr. Brandt is driving the vehicle. Mr. MacAllister is a passenger in the vehicle. Investigator initiates mobile surveillance of the vehicle.
Investigator observes the blue 2010 Toyota Land Cruiser park on Main Street in Mist Bend, OR. Investigator observes Mr. Brandt and Mr. MacAllister walk up the street and into Tucker’s Tavern. Subjects are engaged in conversation and appear cordial. Mr. MacAllister appears to have sustained facial bruising consistent with a physical assault.
Investigator observes Mr. Brandt and Mr. MacAllister exit Tucker’s Tavern. Investigator observes Mr. Brandt and Mr. MacAllister enter the blue 2010 Toyota Land Cruiser and proceed to the Black Bear Inn on Silver Pines Road in Mist Bend. Investigator observes Mr. MacAllister enter the lobby and return nine minutes later. Investigator observes Mr. Brandt pull behind the building. Investigator initiates on foot surveillance of the vehicle.
Investigator observes Mr. Brandt open the door of Room 26 to an unidentified male (Caucasian, mid-forties, blond beard, balding). Investigator observes Mr. Brandt, Mr. MacAllister, and unidentified male leaving rendezvous site, driving away at a speed estimated in excess of 70 miles per hour and proceed to the residence of William Brandt, Sr. on Mellinger Road.
Investigator observes the blue 2010 Toyota Land Cruiser exit the driveway of the residence and depart the area. Investigator observes Mr. MacAllister is driving the vehicle. An unknown male (Caucasian, mid-twenties, shaven, brown hair) is a passenger in the vehicle. Subjects appear tense and unspeaking. Investigator initiates mobile surveillance of the vehicle.
Due to extremely poor visibility and dangerous driving conditions, Investigator was forced to suspend mobile surveillance.
his is the life,” Will said contently.
Will reeled in his line, glancing back at Taylor, absently admiring both the graceful line of his lean body — even in chest waders — and the beauty of that forward cast. Taylor whisked the fly over his shoulder so that it seemed to dance in the air for an instant — the line looping lazily and straightening out behind him — then snapping his forearm to send the shining line singing out ahead.
The line hummed sweetly and the fly dropped lightly to the green water.
Yes, this was the life. Taylor was smiling at him, his dark hair falling boyishly in his eyes, and Will grinned back.
Taylor was not a big outdoors guy, not by any stretch — unless the outdoors was a warm beach somewhere — but he’d have to be blind not to appreciate the beauty of this scene, the distant, snowcapped, purple-blue mountains and the surrounding dense forest, red-gold foliage blazing in contrast to the green and gray spikes of conifers and pines. Even the white thunderheads moving in slowly from the east like airborne glaciers, were beautiful and dramatic.
“Worth getting up at four in the morning?” Will asked.
“For this? Sure.”
Protection details, not so much. But they would have to make due with the work they could get until things turned around.
“Richard never called back?” Taylor would probably not have forgotten to mention it, though he’d had a lot on his mind that morning between last night’s bonding exercise with Grant and nearly being run off the road by the Dooleys.
“No.” One little word, but Will knew Taylor was troubled.
“We’ll find another way.”
Taylor didn’t reply.
Will walked backwards a few steps, eye on a boulder on the far side of the river. He lifted the tip of his fishing rod, swinging the rod back and over to create the loop in the line and casting forward. The line glinted, snaking through the air and dropping down.
“Nice,” Taylor observed.
“We should try salmon fishing in Alaska some day,” Will said. “Supposedly there’s nothing like it.” Someday when they could afford to take a real vacation again. Will’s stomach growled. “You getting hungry?” he called to Taylor.
They hadn’t caught much that morning, but that wasn’t really the point of the exercise. Even exercise wasn’t the point of this exercise. A little time to themselves, a little communing with the Great Outdoors. Mostly a little time to themselves.
Will felt a drop on his face and glanced at the slate skies overhead.
“Same here. You ready to call it a day?”
In answer, Taylor began to reel in his line.
“Thanks for this,” he said.
“For what? Fishing? My pleasure.”
Taylor’s expression was serious. “No. For letting me come along on this trip.”
? There was no
about it. Of course you were coming on this trip.” Will said it heatedly because he was unhappily aware that he had not initially wanted Taylor to come. What a dumbass he was sometimes. Now he couldn’t imagine having made this trip without him. Just when he thought they couldn’t get any closer, too. But somehow he felt closer to Taylor than ever.
“I like your dad,” Taylor said, still serious, still following his own thoughts.
Taylor made an absent, amused sound. “You’re lucky though. I love my parents, but I don’t have that. What you have. I never did.”
Will had known that for a long time. Taylor was close to his siblings and had a polite, distantly affectionate relationship with his mother. He rarely spoke about his father, but Will had the impression Taylor would have liked a closer relationship. It bothered him to picture a much younger, much more vulnerable Taylor yearning for what should have been his by right.
Families were complicated. But some people shouldn’t be allowed to have kids. That was a fact.
“Grant’s okay too. In his way,” Taylor added.
Will laughed. “Thanks for, you know, not pulverizing him. Of course, I may pulverize him myself.”
“Nah. I like him. He’ll grow out of what I don’t like about him.”
They reeled in their lines, waded out of the water, and stood beside the Land Cruiser, stripping off their protective gear. Will wore Polypropylene long johns under his waders, but Taylor, as usual, had worn Levi’s, and the cotton had acted as a magnet for the damp cold.
“God damn it,” Will said. “Why will you never listen to me? You’re turning blue!”
“Then the rest of me will match my balls,” Taylor said tartly. He was kidding of course, except…not entirely. All at once his smile was too tight and his green eyes looked gray. Glacial.
“Huh?” Will stared at him and he had that sinking feeling again. “Wait a minute.”
“Forget it. I’m joking.” Taylor flashed him a brief, meaningless smile and threw his waders in the back of the SUV with the ice chest of fish. The boots clunked heavily and fell away from each other.
“Taylor.” Will put a hand on his shoulder and Taylor slid out from under it.
“Let it go, Will.”
“No. I’m not going to let it go.” Will’s hand closed on Taylor’s bony shoulder, and he turned Taylor to face him. “It’s been a little awkward, that’s all.”
“Oh, believe me, I know.”
Frowning, Will regarded Taylor, taking in the flushed cheeks, the stormy eyes, the sulky mouth. Taylor was not a guy who sulked, but that was definitely an unhappy curve to his lips. Not just unhappy. Hurt.
“You’re wrong,” Will said. “You couldn’t be more wrong.” He angled his head and covered Taylor’s mouth in a coaxing kiss. Taylor kissed him back reluctantly. Will deepened the kiss, and Taylor’s lips parted with a tiny sigh.
It was the sigh that did it, that helpless concession, Taylor suddenly receptive and accessible and so sweet as he opened to Will, even leaning against him as though he was suddenly too tired to fight.
Which was probably true. He sure hadn’t seemed to do much sleeping the night before, had even turned down Will’s offer of a backrub.
Maybe that made sense now.
“You’re nuts,” Will said softly. “This is every bit as frustrating for me. I just don’t let myself think about it, that’s all.” He reached down and found Taylor’s waistband, undoing the metal button, popping the rivets of his fly…
“How do you mana…” Taylor’s voice gave out as Will pushed his hand in, worked his way through the front of Taylor’s boxers, meeting his cock halfway.
Yes. Beautiful. Velvet skin stretched taut over that tensile thrusting hardness. He could only spare a brief caress, reaching further for those painful, much-neglected balls. He cradled the plush, fragile sacks in his palm.
Taylor sagged back against the side of the SUV, arching a little, moaning, “Will…” Stricken and beautiful, eyes shut, trembling, making those small sounds as Will petted and stroked him, occasionally jumping as Will pinched his thigh or butt cheek.
This was crazy. A forest ranger could be watching them right now. Another fisherman could drive up any second — with a carload of kids. And his mother. And the family minister. But no way could Will stop now. He flexed his hand, pressed his thumb to the hot entrance between Taylor’s butt cheeks, and Taylor gasped, shuddered.
“What do you want, sweetheart?” Will’s voice was rough with excitement and longing.
“Whatever you want, Will.”
Christ almighty. Hearing those soft, submissive words, Will’s cock went so rigid so fast he nearly did himself a permanent injury. Sheer crazy fantasy because there was no one less submissive than Taylor. When he handed over control it was on a strictly limited basis, and even then Will always had a suspicion Taylor was secretly directing the action.
“I’m going to fuck you,” Will said.
Taylor shivered, started shoving at his Levi’s. Will turned him to face the SUV, yanked his jeans down, yanked his boxers down. And Taylor leaned against the side of the car, docile, pants around his ankles, goose bumps on the pale perfect globes of his ass. Waiting for whatever Will was going to do to him. Beautiful. Taylor rested his forehead on his bent arm, and the nape of his neck looked boyish.
Will swallowed dryly, shoved down the clinging long johns, taking himself in hand, pressing against Taylor. The exquisite sensation as the head of his cock pressed against the hot bull’s-eye of Taylor’s body… Taylor whimpered.
Will stopped. “
. Hold on…”
Taylor’s head jerked up. “What. The. Hell.
?” he asked, sounding anything but submissive.
,” Will said desperately. He yanked open the driver’s door, crawled inside, rifling through the glove compartment until he found the small pink bottle. “Got it.”
“My cock is about to freeze to the side of this fucking car, Brandt!”
,” Will said, ducking back out of the car. He held up the sample-sized baby lotion.
“Oh my God.” Taylor’s head flopped down on his arm again. His shoulders shook. Will couldn’t tell if he was laughing or crying. Either way, Will was damned well going to have him. He slicked himself thickly, briskly with pink-smelling lotion, and pressed against Taylor again, guiding himself. Taylor’s body offered token resistance, Will pushed, and he was in, enveloped in that warm, suede grip.
Taylor made a small, satisfied sound — a sound of almost heartfelt relief — and pushed back. Will braced his hands on either side of Taylor.
. Taylor was right. The car was like a block of ice. He gathered Taylor close, wrapping him in his arms, holding him tight against the warmth of his own body. He turned so that he was leaning against the SUV and Taylor was leaning back against him. Taylor folded his arms over Will’s, so they were melded tight all the length of their bodies.
Will thrust tentatively, and Taylor let his head fall back on Will’s shoulder. “Oh, God, Will.”
“Don’t stop. Please God. Don’t stop.”
“I won’t. I won’t.”
They’d caught the rhythm now, sliding into it like a runner hitting his stride, only two runners, a relay team, working together. Will thrusting, Taylor pushing back. The paced themselves, picked up speed, and then they were running full out. Will lifted Taylor a little, changed his angle, and felt that jolt roll right up Taylor’s spine and hit the back of his skull. The sound Taylor made that time was a sound there was no faking, a broken sob of something way beyond pleasure or even delight.