“I am sorry for your loss,” Mikhail said, frowning slightly as he heard the obvious pain in Robert’s voice.
“It was a long time ago,” Robert said, shrugging, but his eyes showed the shadows of grief. “His death was the reason I became a…chauffeur.” Mik frowned again, then Robert flicked his gaze to the door, and back to Mikhail, putting a finger to his lips.
Mikhail got the message. Someone was approaching. He tuned in to what Robert had heard.
“I worked in an office before as a computer nerd, analyzing data,” Robert continued as though he hadn’t heard the noise outside, placing the teapot, mugs, and cookies onto a tray along with milk, lemon, and sugar, and lifted the whole thing. “Being a chauffeur gets me out into the real world, much more exciting than staring at numbers on a screen.” He smiled slightly, then jerked his chin toward the other room. “We can drink this in the living room,” Robert said. “It’ll be cozier.”
Mikhail nodded, then tensed when he heard a sound outside the front door. Robert put the tray down again, super quietly, opened a drawer, and retrieved a small handgun. He gestured for Mik to duck down behind the counter, just as the door exploded in a shower of splinters and three men piled inside, spraying bullets from fully automatic sub-machine pistols with silencers attached. The teapot shattered as the gunmen scattered bullets in a furious flurry, in a deadly array of destruction.
Robert, looking calm and professional, if a little pale, waited for the first salvo to stop, then darted up, fired three shots, and ducked down again quickly before Mikhail realized what he’d done. There was a trio of yelps, so Robert must have hit his targets. Mikhail was impressed. He flinched when the gunmen’s response was another fierce round of missiles which destroyed cabinet doors, the electric kettle on the counter, and everything else they touched.
Then there was silence, followed by the rush of boots leaving the apartment. Mikhail started to breathe again, then saw a pair of legs at the end of the counter, attached to a smallish guy with longish black hair, face intent with purpose, holding a nine-millimeter pistol that arched menacingly toward Mikhail. Without thinking, he leaped at the man, claws and fangs extended, and bit the bastard right in the gonads, his claws raking the man’s derriere.
The man screamed to high heaven, bashing ineffectively at Mikhail with the weapon’s butt, apparently forgetting it was a gun. Mik just dug in deeper, shaking his head viciously, then released him, and spat blood from his mouth. Finally, he grabbed the guy’s gun hand and snapped his wrist like a twig.
Instantly, the gun dropped to the floor, the thug crumpling to his knees, screaming in pain as he grabbed his nuts with one hand, cradling his other arm against his chest. “What the fuck did you bite me for?” he blubbered.
“What the fuck did you aim at us for?” Mikhail snarled, backing off a little. The man was younger than he first appeared and seemed genuinely upset, crying actual tears. In his experience, thugs of Flashpoint’s caliber didn’t waste time weeping. They just went for the kill. Except that this man must have walked in just as the gunmen were leaving…something was off.
“Er, Mikhail?” Robert said quietly, sounding a little shocked. “This is Cole. He’s a…chauffeur, too.”
Mikhail swallowed, darted a look at Robert, and saw the paleness of his face. The guy looked as though he was going to vomit.
“Do you have a first aid kit?” Mik asked his host, who gave himself a shake and stood carefully.
“They’ve gone,” Robert said with relief. “Cole, can you hang on for a bit, until we get out of here? This place is compromised.”
“I was just made into a eunuch, Rob,” the man shot back furiously, glaring. “Who the hell is this, anyway?”
“That’s Mik,” Robert said, shaking his head ruefully. “He just arrived.”
“I think I may need surgery.” Cole was gingerly touching his groin, wincing in pain.
“No time for that,” Robert said briskly, retrieving a key from a small, hidden drawer. “We need to move out. Now.”
“I’m bleeding to death here, Rob,” Cole groused petulantly, but stood slowly, still glaring at Mikhail balefully.
“You should have announced your presence,” Mikhail said calmly. “I didn’t bite you that hard, just enough to get you to drop the gun. It’s not my fault you didn’t get the message.”
“You broke my fucking wrist, you animal.”
Mikhail bared his impressive lion fangs, which had the other man backing off in a hurry. “Go fuck yourself, asswipe,” he retorted harshly. “If you had followed protocol, and announced yourself properly, I would not have reacted. Shove a gun in my face again, and I’ll break more than your fucking wrist.” He snarled viciously for good measure, seeing a flare of something ugly come and go in Cole’s eyes, mixed with a healthy dose of fear. This was not an ally. This was a man who showed the hallmarks of a weakling. That was dangerous, given their current situation. What had the man been doing, walking in right after they’d been shot at? How had he arrived so soon after, and not been hurt himself? Mik wondered what the man’s connection was to Robert. Who was he? Or were both these men double agents?
“Let’s go before those morons come back,” Robert said, glancing around at the destruction. “The bastards ruined my favorite teapot.”
Mikhail bit back a smile at the disgust in Robert’s voice. They’d nearly been shredded by what felt like a thousand bullets, and the guy was worried because his favorite teapot broke.
“Smirk all you want, Mik, that was my mother’s,” Robert told him, his glare laser sharp.
“I wasn’t trying to seduce you for information,” Mikhail said, suddenly turning to find Robert staring at his butt, now his crotch. He met Robert’s gaze steadily. “I like you. I just don’t need any kind of strings attached right now. It’s too soon.”
Robert stared back, then got to his feet, his cock pushing insistently against his pants, reacting to the lust blazing from Mik’s hazel eyes.
“Then how about we go for a friends-with-benefits kind of approach,” he invited, unbuttoning his shirt. He wanted Mikhail so badly and didn’t want to fight the attraction anymore. God knew, in their current predicament, a long-term relationship was ludicrous. “I really would like to ride your dick, purely physical release, no commitment needed.” He grinned wryly. “We probably won’t be alive tomorrow anyway,” he said with dark humor and saw the answering amusement in Mik’s gaze.
“No coffee?” Mik asked, already turning off the gas under the kettle.
“I wouldn’t mind some cream,” Robert replied huskily, watching Mik’s eyes darken even more, the scent of his arousal pungent in the enclosed space.
He held out his hand, and they headed to the bow where another cabin was situated. From there, if needed, they could make a quick getaway. He really wanted some dick, though. His ass was literally clenching with need.
They entered the small cabin, and Mik immediately tugged off Robert’s shirt. Their lips met in a clash of desperate passion, the pair of them moaning at the first taste. “Oh, god, you feel good,” Robert muttered, reaching between them to unbutton his pants. The garment dropped to his ankles, and he shoved his underwear down, too.
Mikhail fell to his knees and swallowed Robert’s cock, gagging when the fox shifter jerked involuntarily, driving forward to the back of Mik’s throat. “Easy, tiger,” Mik drawled, laughing softly. “Hmmm, tasty.” He looked up, locking gazes, and then proceeded to drive Robert out of his mind. He worked his throat muscles, massaging the bulbous head until Robert was whining, his dick so hard he was ready to come already. With a wailing cry, he gave up the fight, and let loose, sending a deluge down his lover’s gullet. Panting, he gave an unmanly squeal when Mik lifted him off his feet, plopped him on his back on the bed, then knelt between his spread thighs, and attacked his crease.
Gasping for air, Robert arched his back as the gorgeous shifter lapped him with a dedication and skill that had Robert keening for mercy. “Fuck, that’s amazing,” he babbled, feeling the rough glide of Mik’s tongue running over his little starburst, then pushing inside, loosening the tight ring of muscle.
“You’re addictive,” Mik said approvingly, nipping at Robert’s buttocks teasingly, then diving in for more of his smaller lover’s musky taste. “So smooth like a ripe peach.” His fangs bit deeper, sending Robert into convulsions. He loved a biter. And Mikhail was a fucking god at it, his sharp teeth probably leaving marks all over Robert’s ass. The fox shifter wailed again when his lover aimed for his cock, sucking greedily at his thickening dick, licking off the creamy residue.
“Lube,” Mikhail commanded, sounding less in control now, his beautiful hazel eyes flaring with lust, the green in them laser sharp.
Robert pointed vaguely for the small bathroom opposite and watched, speechless, as Mik left him for a moment, then returned with the tube in hand. Throwing the lube on the bed, Mikhail discarded his clothes, then moved into position, spreading Robert’s legs wider, then hooked them over his forearms.
Robert groaned loudly, his butt clenching as his lover smeared thick globs of lube onto his hole, then his cock and fingers, and began stretching him. One thick digit probed delicately, shunting in and out with shallow fucks. Robert writhed beneath him, head thrown back, lost in ecstasy. Fuck, but the man was good. A second finger joined the first, and the smaller shifter yelped at the pinch and burn, moaning gratefully as pain turned to pleasure. Mikhail found the little gland inside Robert’s chute and nailed it a few times, teasing Robert until he was groaning continuously, forgetting everything but the fire in his ass.
“One more for luck,” Mik quipped and sank a third finger down Robert’s hole, scissoring all three to open Robert up for the monster cock between Mik’s legs. The man was hung like a bloody horse.
“Here we go, sweet cheeks,” Mik drawled breathlessly, sweat beading his body, gilding his golden skin beautifully. A second later, his cock replaced his fingers, and he sank deep inside Robert’s aching hole.
“So. Fucking. Good.” Robert closed his eyes, loving the burn, loving the overstretched feeling as he was impaled on Mikhail’s giant rod. The man proved he knew how to use it as well. Within moments, Robert was lost in the spell of lust that swept over them both, his ass fucked well and truly, by a master cocksmith. Driving deep, alternating the strokes between up and lower tempo, Mikhail kept his gaze on Robert the whole time, not letting Robert escape the furious passion in their depths.
Robert was in awe of the guy, who was making sure that Robert was utterly pleasured, using his hands and cock to maximum effect. Robert’s cock bounced on his stomach as each hard thrust shook his entire body, a slave to Mikhail’s lovemaking. Mik fisted his firm dick in time to his powerful strokes, lighting up Robert’s nerve endings until he was a writhing mass of sensations. This was no simple hookup. This was a man determined to prove something, sending Robert a message through the power of touch alone. Quite what, Robert had no idea, but he was perfectly happy to be the subject of Mikhail’s attention. He wanted more and more and more of it.