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Authors: Sierra Riley

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BOOK: Takedown
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11
Mitchell

W
alking
the industrial park of Beatrice was as far from circling a New York City block as Mitchell could imagine. Still, the exercise helped clear his head. The air was so fresh out here. It was incredible to be able to breathe deeply and not choke on the mixed scents of smog, piss, salty ozone, and frankfurters.

Hopefully the fresh air wasn’t going to be polluted by the new biodiesel plant on the edge of town. From what little he knew from overhearing idle gym chat, the power plant had brought a lot of jobs to the area. Some people were worried about the smog, though.

He’d almost choked on laughter at the idea that one plant—even a smelly one like they feared—could compare to what he was used to.

The sidewalks were always empty around here. Nobody in their right mind walked around in Nebraska. Everyone got a car or truck at sixteen. Walking was a little suspicious, actually. Growing up here, Mitchell could understand the discomfort, but it was silly. He wasn’t going to waste rental car miles and gas trying to clear his head.

As Mitchell walked back up the street toward the gym, the hair prickled on the back of his neck. Something didn’t feel right.

There was a large, white pickup truck rumbling up the street toward the gym. Not much traffic came through at eleven on a weeknight in this area.

Mitchell cut through the grass berm toward the gym, since the parking lot was well-lit. The truck pulled into the parking lot to follow him, and he knew something was wrong.

Christ, who have I pissed off in two days?

Then he recognized the truck, and his heart sank. It was all three of the Miller brothers. They were assholes by all accounts. They’d targeted Luke for being gay growing up. Mitchell had been lucky enough to avoid all that because he’d come off to everyone, including himself, as a nice straight boy.

Now, though…

They pulled up in front of the gym door. As the truck idled, the oldest—Bobby—got out first. Mike and Todd, the twins, followed him.

“Hey,” Mitch greeted coolly, jerking his chin. Maybe they weren’t starting shit after all.

“So you’re back in town, are you?”

As soon as Mitchell spotted Todd’s hand resting on the rifle on the back glass of the truck, he resisted the urge to get sarcastic. “I am. I’m the owner of the gym now.”

“Shame Toby went and croaked, isn’t it?” That was Mike, his arms folded obnoxiously to show off the size of his forearms and biceps.

Mitchell coolly nodded. “He’s missed around here, that’s for sure.”

“By the faggots and queers, maybe.”

This isn’t the 80s anymore,
Mitchell wanted to remind them, but that wouldn’t go over well either. “By a lot of the guys here,” he jerked a thumb at the gym building.

Bobby snorted. “You think so? You think they care about you? Fuckin’ nerve of you, homo boy, comin’ back in town after all you did.”

“I think you better head home,” Mitchell told them, his voice icy now. In reality, one against three with guns involved, he didn’t stand a chance. He wanted them to respect him nonetheless. Bluffing was all he could do.

Bobby called him. He ambled closer with that mean swagger in his step, his chin tilted up. “Yeah? Or what?”

Mitchell didn’t have much of a choice. When Bobby crowded into his personal space, he shoved his chest just hard enough to make it clear he was defending himself. “Back the fuck off, all of you.”

“You gonna fight? Take us down? Did
Luke
give you
lessons
?”

Predictably, Mike and Todd jeered.

Mitchell bit back the annoyance before he let a single second of it show. That would be losing, and he wasn’t intending to lose. “Maybe. Is this about Emily?”

“Her new fiancé—her
normal
fiancé this time—is a buddy of ours.”

Mitchell pressed his lips together and nodded. “Right. So you’re making sure the flip-flopper doesn’t try to flip-flop her.”

Bobby started forward before Mitchell gave a self-deprecating smile. Then, he stopped and snickered for a moment. “Yeah.”

“Well,” Mitchell half-smiled, inviting them in on the joke, “I’m obviously not gonna be much of a threat.”

“No, you’re not.” Bobby wasn’t grabbing him yet, enjoying laughing at him too much.

He could defuse this. Mitchell had crisis management training. One of many odd skills he’d picked up on the job—none of them useful until they suddenly were.

And then he heard the grating rumble of another, older, truck.

Fuck.

Luke was pulling up next to the Millers’ truck, and he looked
pissed
. He didn’t even shut off the truck before he was out the door and sprinting for Bobby.

“I told you to stay the
fuck
away from this place!”

Before Mitchell could stop him, Luke was on Bobby. He aimed quick jabs at the face and gut, then kneed him between the legs. It was quick and dirty, especially when Mike and Todd jumped in.

“Don’t—” Mitchell tried, but it was way too late for that.

“Leave your boyfriend with us and get out of here, you little faggot,” Mike sneered. He’d barely finished the sentence when Luke belted him across the face hard enough to snap his head back. Then, Luke’s kick hit Todd’s stomach and he was on the ground.

Mitchell took a step forward to try to keep Bobby out of Luke’s hair, but Luke shoved him away again.

Then, fluidly, he hooked his leg around Bobby’s while Bobby tried for a clumsy chokehold and dumped him on the ground, too.

Mike’s nose was bleeding and he was growling as he charged Luke.

Luke stepped aside and grabbed him around the back of the neck. He wrestled his body under control with one arm until he was bending over and gasping for air.

“Tap out, asshole,” Luke growled.

“You think this is it? We’ll be back, you bunch of queers,” Todd growled, making a lunge for Luke to make him let go of Mike. Then he shoved his brother up into the truck and followed, feinting one more time.

Luke didn’t flinch, just smirked at him. “Bunch? You need to pretend there’s four of me so you feel better losing?”

Bobby tried one more hit to Luke’s stomach, but Luke didn’t even seem to feel it. He just grabbed Bobby’s arm, bending his elbow back on itself until Bobby yelped. Then he let go, shoving him toward the truck.

The brothers peeled out of the parking lot, still throwing curses and idle threats out the window. Mitchell ignored them.

He was shaking with adrenaline and outrage as Luke turned to him with a cocky grin. “That’s them taken care of,” Luke told him.

“No, that isn’t,” Mitchell burst out. “I had it under control, you asshole! You’re so fucking impulsive. You fuck things up on your first perception. You never stop to look at what’s happening.”

Luke looked surprised at the outrage. He coolly shrugged and stepped back to park the truck while Mitchell unlocked the gym doors.

“And,” Mitchell added with venom once the door was open and Luke was at his shoulder, “They’re Sheriff Miller’s kids. It’s not just you in trouble. I’m gonna be fucked, as the owner of the place.”

His cheeks burned as he stormed inside, down the hall to the door leading to the apartment stairs. The outside door slammed shut and locked behind them.

Luke was right there beside him, gripping the handle of the second door as Mitchell fumbled for his keys.

Their bodies were pressed together now. Luke’s arm was wrapped halfway around him to get at the handle. Luke’s eyes… they were dark, but burning with passion. No doubt from the adrenaline of the fight, and maybe something else. His body was thick and hard and so fucking warm. Mitchell’s skin burned in every spot where they pressed together.

And then Luke crowded up to him, pushing him against the door.

Mitchell moaned and grabbed Luke’s back to haul him closer until their thighs slotted together. Luke’s knee pinned him in place while Luke’s cock ground against his hip. His hands groped at Mitchell’s head, pushing his hair back, then wandered down over his shoulders and chest.

And their lips met in the kind of kisses Mitchell could only have imagined. Open-mouthed, wet, desperate, and fucking
loaded
with chemistry.

He grabbed Luke’s ass and pushed forward in a demand for attention, pushing his hard cock into Luke’s hip. As Luke sucked on Mitchell’s lower lip until he moaned, Mitchell ground against him until his cock throbbed.

When Luke yanked the door open, Mitchell had no doubts or reservations about where they were headed. The last two days of sexual tension had been almost unbearable.

Something had to give.

12
Luke

M
itchell had scared
the
shit
out of Luke. The Millers—all likely to shoot a homo for fun—confronting Mitch in front of the gym had made Luke lose it for a moment. His anger boiled over the second he saw them, and his blood still ran hot.

He didn’t have time to regret what he’d done. Mitchell had been pissed at first, probably from embarrassment at not being able to kick the shit out of them himself, and then, suddenly…

They were kissing hard, their bodies pressed together in the kind of desperate passion that didn’t have time for words or niceties. Mitchell was arching into him, rubbing that hot little body up against his and kissing him open-mouthed and hungry.

Luke managed to get them both up the stairs and into his own apartment. He pushed Mitchell up against the door first to grind rhythmically against him a few more times until Mitchell spread his legs. Mitch rolled his head back, and moaned the most gorgeous, deep, throaty sound of arousal Luke had
ever
heard.

Then they were stumbling into his apartment. One well-placed gentle kick closed the door, and they were heading to the bed in the corner of the room.

Mitchell was already trying to tear Luke’s t-shirt off. He raised his arms and tilted his head back from the breathless, fervent kisses to let him pull it off his head and throw it aside. It hit the screen beside the bed, and so did Mitchell’s knee as he tried to clamber onto the bed.

Luke pulled Mitchell’s dainty little collared shirt out of his pants and ran a hand up underneath the slim-fit garment. He admired the slender, smoother skin against his palm as he tweaked one of Mitchell’s nipples. Mitchell’s whole body flinched and quivered for a moment as he moaned again, his eyes sliding shut.

Holy fuck, he was hot.

Luke wasn’t just into him. He was
really
into him—the kind of spellbound, “unable to look away” into him. The sex was gonna be incredible.

Mitchell grabbed Luke by the belt loops and hauled him close until he crawled onto the bed on his knees. Luke knelt upright over Mitchell’s lap. He let Mitchell kiss his chest and stomach and get a good look at his tattoos up close as his lips wandered up along his chest and then down his stomach.

Oh, this was going
there
, was it? For their first encounter, he wouldn’t complain.

Mitchell carefully scooted away and Luke settled down on his heels, his cock aching to be freed from the tight denim. Mitchell wasted no time kissing down his stomach to his waistband, settling down on his hands and knees.

Luke helped by unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, but then Mitchell smacked his hands away when he tried to haul down his own jeans.

“Oh!” Luke laughed.

Mitchell spared a moment for a smirk, then relished it himself. He drew the waistband down until Luke’s thick cock popped free.

The sight of Mitchell licking his pretty lips made Luke instantly even harder, his dick twitching right in front of Mitchell’s face. And then Mitchell was bobbing his head down, his smooth, wet lips wrapped around the head of his cock.

He didn’t take it all in, but he stroked the shaft with his hand wrapped just above his mouth. As Luke’s cock grew wetter and more sensitive, it almost felt like he was sucking the whole length. But no—he was focusing those incredible lips and that filthy tongue on the head of Luke’s cock.

The wet warmth engulfing and squeezing around him was mind-blowing. Luke hadn’t been sucked off in… months, actually.

Jesus, that was sad.

“M-Mitch…” Luke moaned, just to taste his name on his kiss-sweetened lips.

The realization hit him seconds later: he was gonna come. In Mitchell Keane’s mouth. And the man was staring up at him with sex-clouded eyes. He moaned his appreciation while he fumbled under himself. Mitchell was rubbing himself off through his pants to the sight of him.

Luke’s muscles twitched and squeezed. Sometimes—months ago, when he was actually getting laid now and then—he mentally named muscle groups when they contracted. Now, his mind was too fucking far gone to manage proper words.

All he could focus on was his own flushed, hard length pushing past those firm, wet lips, and the tongue coaxing his release along, and…

“Mitch!” The cry was ripped from Luke’s throat in a breathless, groaning growl. He thrust his hips forward a couple times against the tight rings of his once-best-friend’s fingers and lips. He was squirting his load across Mitch’s tongue. Mitchell swallowed it down without thinking twice. Those wide, dark eyes were still drinking in every second of Luke’s pleasure.

Luke was barely soft before he pulled his cock out of Mitchell’s mouth, loosening his grip on the sheets. He hadn’t dared grab Mitchell’s shoulder in case he’d dislocated it with his all-consuming
need
for orgasm.

Mitchell’s bulge that he’d been palming was obvious against his pants. Luke only had to flex a couple muscles to flip them over until Mitchell was on his back and he was scooting down the bed. He unfastened his pants with as much care as he could manage, which wasn’t much.

“Oh, God, yes,” Mitchell moaned, writhing against the bed as Luke rubbed against his underwear. Then, he yanked that down, too.

Mitchell’s cock looked fucking delicious. It was crooked up a little, his balls thick and low, his cock head red and shaft veiny and thick.

Luke moaned his appreciation and started mouthing kisses along the velvety shaft from base to tip, adding flicks of tongue.

Mitchell gasped for breath. Luke’s name tumbled off his lip a few times before Luke indulged him. He pressed his lips tightly around the head and swallowed his shaft down all the way.

“Jesus!”

Luke
loved
the surprised and utterly pleased reaction he wrung out of Mitchell. He swallowed his length in one quick swoop of his head, letting it slide along his tongue. He sucked hard as he bobbed his head up and down, relishing the taste of him. Salty, just a little musky, almost sweet… Luke was lost for words, but he didn’t need any.

He just needed his mouth to show how he felt.

Mitchell gasped and pushed up into his mouth as he tangled his hand in the short hairs at the back of Luke’s head. His other hand squeezed Luke’s shoulder like he didn’t know where else to put it. The bite of his nails into skin made Luke’s head spin with pleasure.

“I’m—I’m almost… Luke, oh, shit, I’m…” Mitchell panted as Luke felt his shaft swell inside his mouth. Thick, salty liquid coated his tongue. More importantly, Mitchell’s face was twisted in stunned pleasure as his lips parted. “Yes! Oh my God, yes… oh…” His hips thrust unconsciously with each little squirt of his cock. Luke let Mitchell fuck his lips while he stared up the length of his body to see that reaction.

When Mitchell’s cock dripped the last few times and started to soften, Luke slowly pulled his lips off him with a sucking
pop
. Then, he swallowed and grinned as Mitchell stared at him.

“Oh, holy shit,” Mitchell moaned, and Luke laughed.

He knew exactly how he felt.

Luke was buzzing with pleasure, but there was worry underneath, too. They’d never even flirted beyond what guys did when drunk and stupid. Now, all of a sudden, blowjobs? And the best damn blowjobs he’d ever given and gotten?

He didn’t usually fuck his friends—ex-friends, best friends, work friends, or otherwise.

What were the next few weeks gonna be like?

As much as Luke wanted to lie there alongside Mitchell, pull him in and rest there, he wasn’t sure Mitchell was the cuddling type.

He shifted further up the bed, untangling himself from Mitchell’s legs. As if on cue, Mitchell pulled away and stepped off the side of the bed. His cheeks were still flushed with the unmistakable post-sex glow, his hair stuck up at all angles. His lips were flushed and swollen and reddened from kisses and from dragging them along Luke’s cock.

Some guys looked worse afterward, but if possible, Mitchell was even more gorgeous now.

Luke licked his lips, trying not to stare weirdly as he nodded. “You’re out?”

“I have lawyers to meet in the morning and shit. Making sure the corporation structure is sound…” Mitchell was zipping his cock back into his pants and buttoning up his shirt. His eyes kept sneaking back to Luke’s casual nakedness.

Luke wasn’t getting dressed again, that was for damn sure. He did stand up to see Mitchell out, but Mitchell raised his hand in a quick, casual wave.

“See you tomorrow,” Luke told him, and he earned a quick smile back, at least.

When the door shut, Luke flopped onto his back with a sigh, resting his hand on the warm spot where Mitchell had just lain.

Holy fuck.

He just hoped they didn’t regret this in the morning.

BOOK: Takedown
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