by Angel and Rina
Huffing a lock of wavy dark hair off his forehead, eighteen year old Mac Ramsey
repeated the sentiment aloud as he looked out the window over the urban sprawl
below. Over twenty four hours' travel from Hong Kong to Toronto and now he was
cooped up in a hotel room—albeit a very plush hotel room as the Tangs traveled
first class—with only his brother Michael for company.
At least if he'd been sharing the room with Li Ann he could have come up with
entertaining way to pass the time. Hell, if Michael was a little less tight assed
he could have had a few suggestions that way too.
"I cannot believe we're stuck in here. I mean c'mon, it's Canada, land of the
mounties and all that, not like we could get into trouble out there."
Michael glanced up from the newspaper he was reading, a faint expression of
disgust washing over his handsome face. "You could get into trouble at a
convention of nuns, Ramsey, and that's precisely why Father told us to stay put
until he returns. He has no desire to have to bail you out of jail." Though
unsaid, the word 'again' hung between them, increasing the tension in the room.
"Hey, I'll bet under those habits, nuns really know how to party," Mac laughed.
Pushing off the windowsill, he vanished into the bedroom he'd been assigned and
began rummaging around in the closet for something suitable to change into.
Something casual, but with style... Discarding the more formal clothes, Mac
retrieved a pair of jeans and a white shirt from the spacious closet. Not what he
usually wore, but then today he was going to be trying to blend into the crowds.
Hell, who knew, maybe he'd find a lovely young lady interested in giving him a
private tour.
Humming to himself, the young thief slipped his wallet into the back pocket of
his jeans after making sure that at least one of his lock picks was secure in the
folds. Leaving the shirt untucked provided decent camouflage for the small bulge
it made—it never paid to entice pickpockets you know. After running a touch of
gel through his hair, tucking a pair of mirrored sunglasses into his shirt
pocket, and stepping into a pair of athletic shoes, Mac felt he was ready to take
on the city.
"If Pop comes back, tell him I'm asleep," he called before stopping at the door
and listening carefully to make sure none of the bodyguards were around.
"I'm not covering for you. You leave, you're on your own," Michael warned him.
"You fuck up and Father will leave you to rot here."
"Like I'm gonna get caught," Mac laughed, easing open the door and peering both
ways down the hall. "Have fun with the paper, bro. I'll fill you in on the
details when I get back!" Before Michael could get in a parting shot, Mac was out
the door and down the hall, trotting down the stairwell just in case any of the
Tang employees were using the elevator.
The noontime sun was near blinding and Mac slipped his sunglasses over his dark
eyes, grinning as he surveyed the crowded streets around him. Hello Toronto. Mac
Ramsey was here and it was time to have a little fun.
"Mansfield, my office—Now!" Vic looked up from the latest case he was working
on, underage male prostitutes in some of the more well hidden and more notorious
bathhouses in town, and grimaced at his erstwhile partner, Dobrinsky. What now?
Like being the rookie on the team wasn't bad enough. Like getting the lovely
assignment of having to play a john looking for a good time with a pretty party
boy wasn't bad enough. Like actually having to go through most of the motions
leading up to actual sex wasn't bad enough. Now it looked like he was about to be
put on the Captain's shit list.
"Not your week, is it Ace?" Dobrinsky whispered as he passed the other man's desk
on the way to the Captain's office.
"Fuck you, Dobie," Vic snapped unhappily.
"Don't call me that!" Dobrinsky shot back before continuing. "Besides—that's
your assignment remember, Ace—to fuck the pretty boys?" Dobrinsky chortled as
he watched Mansfield stalk over to the Captain's door, take a deep breath and
knock.
"Come in Victor," Captain Diana Rictor purred throatily. "Have a seat. So, how's
my favorite new recruit liking his assignment?" Vic snorted and mumbled something
graphic and unrepeatable. The Captain's elegant red eyebrows quirked, and a
dangerous half smile spread over the overtly sexual features. The captain was a
good looking woman and wasn't afraid to use her sexuality any more than she was
afraid to use her considerable martial arts knowledge or the 7mm Glock in her
desk drawer. But for some reason her charms hadn't worked on the handsome
Detective Mansfield. Pity, it could have been fun.
"So, you don't like playing with party boys, hmm? You won't have to any longer
Victor. Dobrinsky will be taking over that case. I have a new one for you." A
heavy manila folder hit the desk in front of the slightly worried detective.
Opening the file he looked at the face that stared back up at him from a black
and white glossy. Exotic first sprang to mind. Dark, slightly canted bedroom
eyes, lips that made a mouth water, stubborn tilt to the chin, gorgeous dark hair
that just begged to have fingers run though it. Flipping past the picture, Vic
did a quick rundown of the rap sheet attached. Shit! Eighteen, goddamn—the kid
was practically jailbait.
"Meet Mac Ramsey. Adopted son of the Tang Godfather. Who is in Toronto. For what
we have no idea and we have people in Asian Crimes working on it. Mr. Ramsey
however, is fair game. Adventurous with a proclivity for thievery. If we can
crack him we may have an in as to what Mr. Tang is doing—something the AC won't
have thought of." The captain stood up and slinked around the desk, showing off
the pinstriped suit that on anyone else would have just been a suit but on her
should have been illegal. Black lace bras definitely weren't Mansfield's idea of
proper office attire, but hey, whatever turned her crank.
"I want him Victor. I want him singing like a canary. Do what you have to to
make him ours. I want this case Victor. I do not want those idiots in AC to break
this case. Do what ever it takes. Do I make myself clear?" Diana Rictor was a
woman with ambition. That ambition included being the commissioner. If she could
take the credit for bringing down Tang that spot was virtually hers.
"Perfectly clear, Captain. Whatever it takes." Vic exited the office, file in
hand and walked over to his desk. Grabbing the bathhouse case he walked over to
Dobrinsky and plopped in front of the confused black man. "Try not to have too
much fun there, Ace," Vic grinned evilly before grabbing his ever present brown
leather jacket and walking out the door.
You know, Mac sighed to himself as he studied the crowds of people streaming
down the street around him, for a big city, Toronto is damn boring. Tourists,
tourists and more tourists, most of them clutching tickets to that evening's
performance of 'Phantom of the Opera' and acting as if they had attained the
pinnacle of cultural nirvana. If there was one thing the young thief did not want
to do during his visit, it was to spend his free time sitting through an
over-blown musical with a bunch of gum-snapping idiots.
"There has gotta be something better here to do then this crap," he muttered,
flashing a grin at a girl approaching in the opposite direction. The blonde
smiled back, then winked and handed him an electric pink flyer emblazoned with
the name and address of a club of some kind.
"Caligula... " What the hell, he'd seen it all in Hong Kong, nothing this city
could throw at him would be a surprise. Taking note of the directions drawn on
the pamphlet, Mac got his bearings, then headed north, a smirk turning up the
corners of his lips and a new purpose fueling his stride.
Mac found the club and bluffed his way past the sleek looking bouncer with little
trouble at all. As a matter of fact, if he had thought about it more, he would
have realized it was too easy getting in there. The décor met with his approval,
as did the tight leather uniforms the staff was wearing. It was early, so the
place was still somewhat quiet, but Mac had the feeling it would be wild come
nightfall.
Nightfall. Shit. The old man was going to kill him if he wasn't back before then
but hell, Michael had probably ratted him out by now anyway. Might as well enjoy
the freedom before the ax fell.
Settling himself on a bar stool where he could watch most of the room, Mac
ordered a beer, flipping out a bill to pay the buxom bartender who gave him a
very visible once over as she served him.
God, could these people be any more innocent? And could life get any better?
Jackie Janzek turned away from the kid she'd just served and grinned. Ramsey was
obviously out of place and he probably thought he'd pulled one over on everyone.
Typical teenaged male—thinking with his lower brain not his upper. The kid was
something to look at though—he was a heartbreaker, no doubt about it. Vic was
one lucky bastard, pulling this assignment.
The set up had been so easy—and a little scary. How Captain Rictor knew about
the Caligula, let alone had enough pull to get her hired, convince them to let a
non-member in and use the place for a sting like this was not worth thinking
about. Then again, the captain was not your ordinary run of the mill vice
captain. She seemed to like her job just a little too much. True, being part of
the vice unit meant you got to see the dark side of the city, all the seedy
little unknown places that housed the perverse, illegal and unmentionable. Jackie
herself had spent way too much time playing an underaged prostitute, or a party
girl, or what ever else appealed to the local nasties. In fact it had become so
much a part of her personality that she actually talked like the little 'valley
girl' slut she pretended to be, even off duty.
Filling a glass of beer, she slipped out the side of the bar and took it over to
a darkened corner. "Like, your little squeeze just walked in Vic. God, he's like
so totally munchy. I'm gonna feed him one more straight beer then I'll start
giving him that X Rictor told me to use. I've like seen this stuff work and man -
the results are hot. He should be nice and receptive to a little company in about
half an hour. You're gonna want to get closer when I start feeding it to him
though, people in this place tend to eat little boys like him for lunch. Hell,
half the deviants started drooling the minute he walked in," Jackie snorted
derisively.
"They're gonna wait till he's nice and happy before pouncing so you'd better be
there first," she continued and turned to walk away.
Vic caught her arm. "No—no drugs."
"But, like Rictor said," Jackie whined.
"No—I want him clean. And only two more then you cut him off. Don't worry
Jacks," Vic smiled predatorily when he saw she was about to protest again, "he's
not gonna say no. Believe me."
Jackie looked at Vic again—really looked. Her fellow vice cop had his trademark
brown leather jacket next to him but that was where the similarities to the guy
she saw on a daily basis ended. He had on a black t-shirt, tight enough for her
to see every muscle on his washboard stomach, and it also made the hoop through
his right nipple easily visible. When the hell did Vic get his nipple pierced? In
his left ear was a silver hoop and above it a diamond stud. He had two holes? Who
the hell was this guy sitting here in... skin tight black leather pants with
black leather biker boots. Jackie was suddenly hornier than she could remember
being around the hunky detective, and that was pretty damn horny!
"Wow! Vic you are like so killer in that outfit. If the baby swings that way he's
gonna beg you to take his ass!"
Victor just grinned, a dangerous glint in his eye. "I've done my research—he's
got the inclination even if he's never acted on it. Don't worry Jacks, baby is in
the bag. Now be a good little girl and give him the beer he's motioning for will
ya?"
"Complements, like, of the gentleman sitting over there," the bartender giggled,
waving her hand in the direction of a darkened corner of the club as she slid
another draft in front of Mac.
As she leaned over, she flashed him a good shot down her cleavage and he raised
his glass in a toast to her. "Sure it isn't from you? Maybe later you can show a
guy who's new to town around?"
She leaned farther over the bartop, the motion threatening to spill her breasts
from her black leather bustier. "If you're still around when I get off work, like
sure, might be fun." With a saucy wink, the blonde turned back to her work,
leaving Mac to contemplate his beer and the anonymous patron who had purchased
it.
Well, free booze was free booze. Turning his attention back to the shadows, Mac
inclined the glass toward the figure there, then downed half the brew, grimacing
slightly at the acrid taste. Shit, couldn't these Canadians even make a decent
beer? This stuff tasted almost as bad as American crap.
Mac hooked his feet around the rungs of the stool he was sitting on and slugged
back the rest of the beer. He leaned back against the marble counter, watching as
his benefactor stood and walked in his direction. The man stepped from the
darkness into the dim illumination near the bar and Mac's eyes widened in
appreciation.
Shit, the man was sex on two legs. The young thief's gaze centered on the fluid
movements of the leather clad hips for a long moment then, as he tried to ignore
the definite interest on his body's part, moved upward. It didn't offer any
reprieve, especially since the way up revealed that the older man liked his
shirts tight and his nipple pierced. Fuck.
For the first time, Mac felt a twinge of nervousness and wondered if he should
cut out of here now. A look in the stranger's emerald eyes decided it for Mac. He
was staying. "Thanks for the beer, man," he said, smiling and casually downing
the rest of the mug while giving the other man an all over look again.
"You're welcome," came the rough silk reply of Victor Mansfield. He saw Jackie
watching out the corner of his eye. Shit he hated being on display, but orders
were orders and despite the squeaky clean image Vic knew he had at the station he
also knew how to play the game.
It had taken him along time to remake Victor Mansfield from a kid from the wrong
side of the tracks, and a wild child to boot, to someone people thought of as
responsible, upright, a little naïve and 'nice' guy. What his fellow cops didn't
know would never hurt 'em. But for right now, Vic let the wild side out of its
carefully chained cage and hoped Jackie would think that it was all just an act.
"So tell me, what's a pretty little baby like you doing in the Caligula—or do
you like playing the types of games people play here? You hardly look old enough
to have developed these sorts of vices but I could be wrong."
"Baby?" Mac cocked an eyebrow at the older man, then snorted. "I may look young,
but I haven't been that innocent in a hell of a long time, bud." Something inside
him was trying to raise an alarm, but Mac's libido successfully bludgeoned it
into silence so that he could continue the conversation. "As for what vices I
have, I doubt there's anything in here I haven't seen in one form or another."
The blonde had refilled his beer again and he gave her a smile as he picked up
the frosted glass. The frothy head of foam left a mustache on his upper lip after
he drank, one that Mac languidly licked away, watching the other man the whole
time. "What about you? This place your regular hang out?"
Vic shuddered, his eyes turned smoky jade and became half lidded as the heat
spiked. Taking a healthy swig of his own glass of brew, which Jackie had just
given him, he hardly noticed the slightly bitter and faintly herbal aftertaste.
He was too busy trying to control the lust that just sizzled through his brain.
The baby was eye candy all right, and he knew it.
"Let's just say that there's no floor I'm not allowed access to, and leave it at
that," he replied softly. At that moment another vice cop sidled up to Vic, this
one looking like a fuckable little boy toy. "Found some one new to play with
Master Victor?" he breathed before pouting prettily. "Guess I'd better go back to
my floor and leave you to it," with a caress of Vic's broad shoulders he was
gone.
Mac shifted on his stool as the fit of his jeans tightened more. If this got any
worse, he was going to be able to count his pulse beats in the throbbing in his
groin. Hoping it would clear his head, or at least bank the urges that were
crawling through his brain, the thief downed the rest of his beer and watched a
third man approach them—apparently to be brushed off by his companion. He felt
the sudden urge to grab the party boy's wrist and twist it when he touched—what
was this man's name?
Vic shot a glance at Jackie who cocked her head to one side. Following the motion
Vic's eyes widened imperceptibly. Shit! Rictor. Then the taste of his beer
finally registered and he looked from it to Jackie, his eyes menacing. 'Rictor'
she mouthed then turned away. Sonofabitch, the harpy had spiked his drink and if
his was spiked.... Turning to look at his companion Victor noticed the flushed
skin, dilated pupils and unconscious gyrations of the baby's body. Fuck. Screw
the back room, chances were Rictor had it rigged to tape, sicko bitch that she
was.
"So tell me pretty baby, you here to decorate the bar, or are you here to find
someone to play with?" Vic growled in Mac's ear, his voice darkened sin.
Being called 'pretty baby' should have bothered Mac a lot, but somehow it didn't.
Of course, that may have had something to do with his increasing interest in the
dangerous looking man beside him and the way he filled out his shirt... and
his pants... and...
Damn.
"Was hoping to find someone to dance with," Mac smiled, studying the older man
through half-lidded eyes. "Would much rather do that then hold up the bar." He
took another drink, too distracted by the handsome lines of the other man's face
to notice that the foam had marked his lip again. "And need to know your name
before I even think of playing with you."
Vic didn't answer for a moment, just stared at the young man in front of him. He
knew there was a drug working it's way through not only the kid's system but his
as well. He knew Rictor was watching, damn the bitch, not to mention Jackie. He
knew he should haul the kid into a cab and they should both run for their
lives. But none of his knowledge could prevent him from leaning in close and
licking that damnable line of foam from the sweet little baby's lips.
Whoa... Mac's eyes widened when the other man leaned in, then opened even more
at the rough velvet swipe of his tongue over his lip. Parting his lips to say
something proved to be a mistake—or a blessing depending on which brain was
talking—as the older man swooped in for the kill. Suddenly, Mac's mouth was
full of the other man's tongue and damn if he didn't taste good! Groaning against
the mobile lips that covered his, Ramsey gave into whatever wild hair had claimed
him and succumbed to the kiss, grabbing two handfuls of his companion's soft
leather jacket to hold him in place.
Groaning softly when the taste of beer merged with the taste of Mac, Vic gave in
to the inevitable and took the younger man's mouth in a ravishing kiss that left
them both breathless and Victor so hard he was threatening any future generations
of Mansfield's due to lack of blood flow. "Victor," he purred, "My name is
Victor. And you are?... Apart from mine that is."
It took the thief a moment to get his bearings once they broke apart and the dim
lighting of the club seemed brighter for some reason. What was he saying? Oh,
name and... The low-voiced addendum to the simple question sent a tremor
racing through Mac's body and he slid half off the stool, needing to be closer to
the source of that voice.
"Mac," he whispered, gazing up at Victor in unadulterated lust as a hand slid
over the t-shirt to stroke the hard muscles beneath it. "Glad ta meet ya,
Victor."
"Keep it up baby and I'll have you over a table so fast you're head'll spin," Vic
threatened as he captured the young man's hand in his. He knew what he was
supposed to do next—take the kid upstairs and compromise him. But he couldn't.
He liked the kid, brash little piece of work that he was. Vic closed his eyes,
took a deep breath,... and kissed his career away.
"Come on Mac, it's time to go," he whispered softly. "I don't want to share you -
ever."
The younger man flowed to his feet, using the motion to twist his hand out of
Victor's grasp and rest it on his chest once again. As his thumb outlined the
smooth metal circle that was broken by the hard nub of Vic's nipple, Mac tilted
his head the small bit needed to make their eyes meet. The thought of Vic pushing
him over to a table and making good on his threat made him arch his body into the
other man's leather clad hips.
"They have music where we're going?" he asked, nuzzling his face into Victor's
neck, not caring in the least where that was, just that it got him naked and next
to the older man.
"Yeah," Vic responded once he got the involuntary shudder under control. Damn
that stuff Janzek slipped him, it was making him harder than granite and these
damnable leather pants weren't helping much. It was so fucking hot in here and
Ramsey was rubbing against him like a cat in heat and god dammit all he wanted to
do was sink himself so deep in his pretty baby that he'd never find his way out
again.
"There's gonna be music baby." The music of you screaming my name as I bury
myself deep, you moaning and begging for more and more and me giving it to you.
Vic thought to himself as he grabbed hold of the tormenting hand to both stop
Mac's movements and to give him something to hold on to as he quickly led the
young man outside before any of his 'back-up' could stop him.
Hailing a cab and bundling his clinging, writhing, moaning playmate in the back,
Victor gave the cabby an address in Queen's Quay. It was a condo that belonged to
his family—well him. His parents had bought it for him as a peace offering but
he'd never lived in it. It would suit his purposes now though—some place Rictor
didn't know about, some place she couldn't find out about and get her rocks off
spying on them. Some place where he could do all the dark, dangerous things
floating through his brain.
The trip was made in a haze of lust with Vic fighting the urge to take the kid
right there in the back seat. Due to Mac's young looks Vic was loathe to even
touch him the entire ride, not that the cabby hadn't seen it all he was sure. All
it did was increase the ache in the cop though. He needed, fuck how he needed.
Paying the cabby off, Vic practically dragged Mac past the night manager and into
one of the elevators. The doors had barely slid shut when he turned on the
younger man with a predatory pounce. "Pretty little baby," he growled softly
before crowding the young man into the elevator wall and pressed himself firmly
into the writhing young body beneath his. "My pretty little baby," and then he
devoured those oh so fuckable lips.
Denied the contact he'd been craving so desperately for the course of the taxi
ride to wherever the hell they were going, Mac was in an almost frantic state by
the time they exited the car. Barely audible moans slipped past his lips as he
struggled to grind himself into Victor's side, past the point of caring about
anything except for the lust raging within him.
The moment the elevator doors closed, Mac started to move toward the older man,
but found himself pinned against the wood and mirrored wall, feeling the longed
for pressure of Vic's length grinding into him. Somewhere deep in his mind, a
part of him grumbled in opposition to the name, but the rest of him didn't care,
being too occupied with trying to inhale as much of the other man as possible.
His hands clutched at Vic's shirt, shoving at his jacket, and delving under the
tight fabric of his shirt in an attempt to feel the bare heat of his skin. That
accomplished, Mac's finger's spasmed, digging into Vic's back, pulling him
closer. He barely noticed when the elevator stopped moving or when the car
brightened as the doors opened into an expensively decorated hallway. "No... "
he moaned as Vic pulled away, grabbing hold tighter to keep from losing any of
the amazing feel of the other man's body against him.
"Shh, sweetheart. Gotta get you inside—don't want anyone else seeing your
luscious body but me. Don't like sharing most times but now—think I'd kill
anyone who came near you," Vic husked possessively as he pulled the younger man
along behind him, intent on getting inside the condo, then inside of Mac.
Fumbling the keycard out of his wallet, Vic slid it through the electronic lock
then disarmed the alarm system before pulling the wild eyed young man inside. It
was almost impossible to believe this writhing, clinging sex kitten was only
eighteen—Mac seemed to have more knowledge and skill than most of the seasoned
whores he busted in Vice—not that he was complaining. What he was, was so god
damned aroused that if he didn't find himself buried deep inside this gorgeous,
heart stopping kid in the next few minutes he was going to go out of his fucking
mind.
"Bedroom, baby, this way," he managed to get out between sucking kisses and
groping hands. Clothes were stripped off as they went and dropped or thrown or
tossed wherever they may land. The door was practically yanked off it's hinges in
haste to get inside and Victor managed to get the clinging kitten to lay on the
bed by himself long enough for a quick trip to the bathroom's medicine cabinet.
Good thing he kept this place stocked with all sorts of goodies for when his
relatives and friends came to visit.
Being in bed alone was not tops in Mac's mind at his time, no matter what the
reason, no matter how short a time Victor had promised it would be for. Unable to
touch the other man, the thief's hands filled themselves with his own body,
stroking and petting until he was on the edge of orgasm. God it felt so good, the
only thing holding him back from giving into the need consuming him was the
knowledge that it would be so much better with Victor.
"Get in here," Mac wailed, twisting on the bed so that he could hump the soft
comforter, his hands fisting in the pillows as he tried to get some kind of
control over himself. What was wrong with him? He'd never wanted anything, anyone
this badly but God did he now. A small noise broke through Mac's mindless moaning
and he looked back over his shoulder to see Victor standing in the doorway to the
bathroom. The light behind him outlined the older man's body in a bright nimbus
and Mac knew he'd never seen anything as gorgeous in his life.
"Fuck me, please... " he whispered, the words almost lost in the shuddering
gasps for breath that rocked his body. "Now... "
"Fuck," Vic breathed softly, watching the younger man rubbing against the bed.
He'd never seen anything so erotic in his life. It was almost enough to make him
come right there. And then Mac spoke—whispered for Vic to fuck him. It was a
jolt of electricity right to his groin.
"Jesus, oh shit," Vic groaned softly. He was too hot, too hard. If he went after
the kid in his present state not only would they break a few bedsprings, chances
are he'd hurt Mac too and the last thing he wanted was to hurt his baby.
Squirting some of the lotion he'd found on his hand he wrapped the now slick
fingers around his cock and began to stroke himself hard and fast. He needed to
take the edge off. He also needed to see Mac play with himself—fuck that was
wild watching the kid stroke and play with his sleek body.
"Touch yourself for me Mac," he husked in the silent room. Only the little
whimpers and moans from the teen's lush mouth broke the silence, so far above the
streets of Toronto were they. "Show me what you like baby—show me what feels
good."
Mac's first inclination was to argue the point. He didn't want to jerk off, he
wanted to be fucked and he wanted it right now! Flipping over onto his back once
again, he gathered himself to launch at Vic, then stopped dead, whiskey dark eyes
riveted on the quick movements of the older man's hand on his erection.
A stream of Chinese curses filled the room as it hit Mac that Vic wasn't fooling
around—for now anyway this was all they were going to do. The curses segued to
muttered death threats even as he grasped his painfully hard cock, his hand
slipping easily into the same rhythm the older man was using on himself. That
extra stimulus was all it took and Mac came with a long howl, his back arching
off the bed as his seed spurted over his stomach and hand. His eyelids drooped
closed with the overwhelming intensity of his climax, then shot open again, still
lust glazed, but also a little defiant as he stared at Victor who was now leaning
over him.
Victor moved steadily forward as he watched the young man touch himself. By the
time Mac came, Vic was standing next to where the teenager lay. Placing a knee on
the bed for balance, Vic bent over Mac and with a wicked glint in his eye, ran
his tongue along the younger man's sticky stomach lapping up Ramsey's seed. He
tasted like musk and ocean and sex and it was enough to send Vic shooting his own
orgasm over the bed and the thief.
"You taste like sex—and now you'll taste like sex and like me," Vic husked as
he settled on the bed next to Mac, taking his mouth in a lush kiss. "That was
gorgeous baby. Hot and beautiful—like something out of my fantasies. But such
language—don't know what you were saying, but I'm sure my naughty little baby
was using bad language. Do it again and I may have to—discipline—you," Vic
mock growled as he rolled on top of Mac and pressed the younger man into the bed
and himself into the younger man, their now slick bodies sliding against one
another.
Mac continued speaking Chinese, his mind short-circuited by thunderous climax
he'd just had as well as the driving need that still possessed him. His orgasm
had barely caused his erection to flag and as he rasped out hot, pornographic
phrases, he squirmed, whimpering in delight as Vic's penis moved against his.
The bewildered look in the older man's eyes brought Mac back to himself enough
that he became aware that Victor had no idea what he was saying and, with a
mental lurch, he switched back to English again. "Discipline doesn't work on me,
just ask my family." Laughing a bit at that, Mac pulled Vic down so that he could
kiss him again, initiating an aggressive attack on the other man's mouth that was
designed with one result in mind—to get what he wanted and now.
"Oh I don't know—I'm sure I could come up with some way to keep you in line,"
Vic purred softly, panting from the thief's attack on his mouth. "In fact, I know
I can."
Vic pressed his considerably heavier frame into that of the younger man and with
one hand pinned Mac's hands above his head. "Mmm, handcuffs would have been a
nice touch but I forgot my toys in my other jacket," Vic murmured softly as he
watched the younger man's eyes darken to obsidian and glitter in the half light
cast throughout the room by the lights of the city. "You are so gorgeous. A
Botecelli or Michaelangelo's David brought to life. A living breathing work of
art," Vic sighed as he trailed his free hand along the teen's side and across the
slender chest where a smattering of chest hair was beginning to thicken.
Handcuffs. As if he couldn't be out of those in ten seconds flat. Even as the
rest of what the older man was saying registered on his lust-hazed mind, Mac
found himself thinking that maybe he wouldn't mind staying in them a little
longer—if only to see what it would get him.
"I could play with you all night," Vic commented softly as he began to tweak and
tease first one, then the other of Mac's tiny nipples. Bending his head, Vic took
one in his mouth and began to suckle and nibble lightly—moaning slightly at the
delicious taste of the kid's skin. His free hand continued to tease and taunt the
remaining nipple and the whimpers and curses interspersed with unknown Chinese
phrases coming from above him were music to his ears.
Vic knew that unless some miracle happened this was a one shot deal—that Mac
would either try to kill him or try to bolt when he woke up in the morning and
realized that he'd been drugged, even if Vic had ordered that it not be done.
Then he'd have to face the queen bitch herself. So tonight he was going to drown
himself in this gorgeous, erotic, exotic young man who for some reason made his
heart beat just a little faster than normal.
Victor Mansfield, no doubt soon to be ex-cop, was going to cram a lifetime's
worth of loving into one night—no rules, nothing held back, every want, need,
and fantasy brought to life. He was going to feast himself on the delight that
was Mac Ramsey and hope to God he not only survived the fall out but would be
able to pick up the pieces of his life afterwards, after he'd tasted paradise and
lost it.
Twisting and turning to follow the hand that was petting him, Mac managed to
slide down just enough to latch on to Vic's neck, raising a dark purple mark with
the force of his attentions. "Don't wanna play," he muttered, squirming enough to
get a hand between them to grasp and tug the silver ring threaded through the
older man's nipple. "Want you, wanna feel good."
The last dissolved into an unintelligible garble as Mac used all his agility to
move lower without bucking Victor off. His questing lips found, then closed over
the ring, his teeth pulling it outward so that his tongue could flick over the
tight bud of crinkled velvet flesh. The one problem with this position, the teen
soon realized, was that it left the lower half of his body uncovered and he
growled in frustration—not wanting to let go of his prize, but aching for
something to thrust against.
Vic's head shot back as an involuntary cry escaped. Fuck, this kid was good!
Going straight for a major erogenous zone and manipulating it for all he was
worth. His nipples had always been sensitive but ever since he'd gotten the left
one pierced, whenever it was played with, it sent him through the roof. At this
rate he was gonna come again before he even got close to his baby.
"Enough baby, you do this much longer and the party's gonna be over for a little
while," Vic groaned softly even as he pulled Mac's mouth off of him and the teen
back up to where they were mouth to mouth—but not for long. Vic had plans. "And
just so you know—I'm gonna play with you all night long baby. I'm gonna feast
on your body—take you every way possible, then I'm gonna do it again. You're
about to be ridden harder than you've ever dreamed of. I promise."
Take him every way possible... God that was what he needed. To feel this,
remember it every time he moved tomorrow. Mac may not have understood why he
wanted this possession so much when he had spent almost a year on the street
fighting to keep that one part of him safe, but he did. Every way, any way, the
mechanics didn't matter, getting Victor inside of him did.
With that Vic was moving, laving down the elegant column of neck, nibbling on
each earlobe before sucking it into his mouth, tracing the jugular vein on each
side of Mac's neck with his tongue. Collarbones were traced lovingly and the line
between the younger man's ribs explored and discovered, which led of course to
Vic tracing each rib with first fingers then tongue. Tiny bronze disks barely
concealed by the dusting of hair on the young man's chest were manipulated deftly
with fingers, tongue and teeth. And all the while Vic reveled in the moans and
curses and the slipping from Chinese to English and back. It was nice to know he
hadn't lost his touch.
"Need... Oh god, please Vic, do it," Mac moaned, his voice near cracking with
the strain. The pleasure/pain of the older man's teasing touches had him on the
knife's edge again and Mac didn't know if he could ride it any longer without
losing his mind. His dark eyes glittering with intent, the thief twisted,
wrapping his legs around Vic's waist, offering himself in the most blatant way he
knew.
"Now." Mac timed the husked out word to the tightening of his fingers in Victor's
dark hair, pulling his voracious mouth from his skin. Mac found himself
mesmerized by the older man's forest dark gaze and his fast paced breathing
rasped in his chest. "Make me yours."
Vic drew away from the younger man, so that he wasn't touching the lush body
beneath him at all. "Roll over on your stomach, pretty baby," the cop asked
softly and smiled at the immediate response of his young lover.
"So pretty," Vic crooned, tracing a finger down a perfect length of spine to the
tiny dimple where perfect globes of ass met with an equally perfect back. Vic
could hear Mac moaning, see him writhing, but this first time—he wanted the
younger man loose and begging. He wanted this first time to be one the younger
man never forgot despite how it came about. He wanted the young thief's brain to
short circuit on pleasure.
Crawling up and over the younger man so that Mac's hips were pinned to the bed
lightly, Victor began to kiss and nibble at the exposed nape of the teen's neck,
making sure to cover every inch of skin. He worked his way down sleekly muscled
shoulders, and felt the subtle tension in them. The kid obviously was in great
shape and the muscle tone was fantastic so Vic had a feeling that even he would
find it a challenge to come up against the young man.
Working his way lower, Victor nipped then laved each individual vertebrae down
the younger man's spine and spent an inordinate amount of time tasting the tiny
dimple before bathing each lush cheek with his tongue and giving the left one a
definite roseate reminder of Victor.
Finally unstraddling the younger man, Victor guided the moaning and cursing
younger man to his knees and maneuvered his legs slightly apart. Making sure Mac
was resting on his elbows and his face was supported, Victor knelt between the
younger man's legs and spread Mac's pert cheeks apart, revealing the tiny rosy
pucker in between them.
Leaning in close, Victor ran his tongue delicately down the crevice and smiled
wickedly at the yelp and tensing of the younger man's entire body then the subtle
relaxation. "You taste sweet even here, pretty baby," he husked before diving in
for another taste.
Victor began to rim the younger man with a dexterous tongue, teasing and seducing
the younger man into total relaxation. Victor's tongue pushed slowly inwards past
the tightly clenched muscle and began to gently tongue fuck the teen. Gripping
Mac with one hand, Victor nimbly managed to put on the condom he'd brought with
him as well as slick it with the aloe vera lotion he'd found in the medicine
cabinet. Then, with the slick hand, he reached around and set about bringing the
younger man to his second orgasm of the night.
Mac cradled his face in his hands, digging his fingers into his scalp and tugging
at his hair to try and find some kind of refuge from his overloaded nerve
centers. He couldn't talk, could barely breathe, could only ride the waves of
pleasure crashing over him at each helpless thrust of his hips back against
Victor's agile tongue and forward into his firm, slick grip.
Harsh gasps for breath interspersed with throaty whimpers echoed in Mac's ears
and he pushed back harder against the wet, limber invader, screaming silently as
he rode the cusp of completion, wanting more but unable to hold back against the
intensity of the older man's skills.
"God!" The thief's head snapped up, his back bowed and his whole body tightened
as if seeking something, then he screamed, hips thrashing wildly as he came
again, sending gouts of liquid over the sheets beneath him.
Vic smiled almost ferally at his lover's intense orgasm. He may hate the fact
that Jacks had slipped both Mac and himself that aphrodisiac but he couldn't find
fault with the results. The tiny whimpers his teenaged lover emitted acted as a
goad to his senses, spurring him on. He needed to be in Mac so bad he hurt.
Slicking a finger in the lotion, Victor gently worked it past the now relaxed
ring of muscle guarding the young man's anus. He slowly pushed inwards, then
waited out the contracting muscles until they were loosened once more. Gently
rotating his finger he allowed Mac to get used to his presence. The last thing he
wanted was to hurt his young lover. Ever.
When Victor was sure that Mac was used to one finger, he removed it slowly and
slicked up two fingers, repeating the process. Victor repeated the whole
procedure with a third finger, all the while gritting his teeth as his own
arousal spiked uncontrollably, but he refused to give in to the lust.
Only when he was sure that Mac was fully loosened and ready to take him did
Victor gently guide the head of his aching erection into the younger man's anus,
sliding it in millimeter by millimeter, watching carefully for any sign of
tensing or pain in his young lover. It was only when he was completely sheathed
in Mac's tight heat that Vic began to breath again. Bending he placed tiny biting
kisses on the nape of the teen's neck and shoulders. "Talk to me pretty baby,
tell me how it feels," Vic pleaded quietly. "Tell me you're okay."
How can I talk when I can't even think? Mac asked himself, even as he pushed
backward instinctively, wanting, needing, more of the delicious fullness that was
burning through him. It hurt, but not unbearably, and certainly not enough to do
anything that would cause Victor to stop. As a matter of fact, now that he was
getting used to it, it actually felt...
"Good. Hard. Full." Those few syllables were all Mac could manage to say, and he
punctuated each with a sharp twist of his hips, trying to goad Vic into moving
once again. "Need more," he finally gasped out, pushing up on his hands and
twisting enough to stare back at the older man. The sight of Victor leaning over
him, emerald eyes near closed with the effort of holding himself in check, caused
the thief to suck in a breath. "Let go," he whispered, rocking back against his
lover's body, feeling the hard presence within him shift and pulse.
"Fuck," Vic groaned as he felt Mac began to rock against him "Baby, you are so
fucking hot—god, you are unbelievable." Vic bit down hard to prevent the animal
growls welling up in his throat from escaping even as he began to slowly rock
back and forth. Being in Mac was like being squeezed by a hot silk glove. It was
better than the best blowjob or handjob Vic could imagine. It was intense,
outrageous, lush and it ruined the cop for life.
"Baby, sweet baby, my baby," Vic moaned out mindlessly as his hips began to
pump faster and faster. Christ, it was un-fucking-believable. The vice cop lost
himself in the rhythm of thrust and retreat, his hips beating out a staccato of
slapping flesh to blend with the groans and growls and moans that he and Mac were
making.
Unhooking one hand from the younger man's hip, he reached and found a burgeoning
erection. The glories of a youthful body, especially one at it's sexual peak.
Pumping Mac in time to his pounding motions, "Come for me baby, come," Vic
chanted even as he felt his balls draw close to his body, his own orgasm racing
along over sensitized nerve endings. So close, so fucking close...
No way. There was no way he could react again, even with the fire racing through
his blood, not even with the unfamiliar yet longed for feel of the other man
sinking home within him, the slight shift as Victor changed his position slightly
then...
"Jesus!" The word was ripped from the thief's throat as Vic's cock raked across
his prostate, turning his body into a twitching, writhing mass of flesh concerned
only with physical gratification. "Yeah, there, there," Mac whimpered, bucking
back fiercely, wanting a repetition of that mind-blowing sensation. It hit again
and Mac shouted the older man's name, the jerky movements of his hips driving his
cock into and out of Vic's fist as the first tremors of his climax overcame him.
"Mac!" Vic managed to wail as his cock was suddenly clamped down in a velvet
vise. Jesus, he'd never imagined it could feel this good—it had never felt
this good before. It was like every single inch of his cock was being milked
millimeter by millimeter, all the way up and down.
"Fuck, baby, oh God!" Vic couldn't stand it, it was so fucking hot. His hips
began to slam harder and harder into the young man's, the sound of flesh slapping
against flesh reverberating throughout the room keeping tempo with the forced out
grunts of the older man's passion. Vic was now beyond rational thought, only
caring about driving himself to intense and physical gratification.
Soon he couldn't stand it anymore and with an animal roar he came hard and fast,
filling his lover with his seed even as his whole body went weak with exhaustion.
Rolling to the side so as not to flatten Mac, he quickly removed his condom and
tossed it, before cuddling the teen to his chest. "Mac—you... No one, no
one, baby has ever done that to me before. Or ever will again. Believe it Mac,"
Vic begged softly, raining kisses on his lover, hoping, wishing and praying to
what ever gods may be listening, that Mac Ramsey would forgive him his deceptive
words and believe the truth that was in his heart.
Wrung out and exhausted from their wild exertions and the beers he had consumed,
all Mac could do was mumble something that not even he understood as Victor
maneuvered them around to his liking. He was beat, whipped, but felt better then
he ever had in his life and had no desire to move from his comfortable pillow now
or any time in the for-seeable future.
"Feel good," he sighed, rubbing his face against Vic's shoulder and neck,
cuddling closer as he slung an arm around the older man's waist and a leg over
his thighs. "Gonna sleep now, 'kay?" Even before Vic could answer, Mac's body
went limp as he as much passed out as went to sleep.
"You sleep, baby," Vic smiled softly into the dark silk covered head under his
chin. "And yeah, you do feel good—too good. She's not going to get you baby, I
promise. Don't care if I have to lie or even turn in my badge. She's not going to
touch you. No way I'm letting that piece of poison near you. Ever," he swore
fervently, kissing the young man's shoulder.
Vic truly didn't care if he lost his badge—actually he figured he'd get reamed
out royally, then made to do shit work for the rest of his career in Vice anyway.
With someone like Rictor in charge, maybe it was time to get out of that
department. Maybe he could get transferred to homicide or major crimes or
something—anything that didn't have the bitch as his boss. Mulling over his
options, and his new resolution in life, Victor slowly faded away.
Morning came with a vengeance—and her name was Diana Rictor.
The pounding on the door rivaled the pounding in Vic's head as he stumbled across
the living room to throw the condo door open.
"What the fuck? Captain?" Vic managed to groan out. The outfit of the day was
quite military like—almost exactly like a beat cop's uniform. Except it was
made out of black PVC and was cut a little too low and beat cops carried
nightsticks not riding crops.
"Good morning my little party boy? So—where pray tell is Mr. Ramsey? He has an
appointment downtown—in my office," she grinned as she sauntered in. "Nice
place, by the way."
"He's not here," Vic ground out, already knowing his career was basically shot -
she was gonna be pissed.
"What do you mean he's not here Detective Mansfield? Just where pray tell is
he?"
"I dunno—he got cold feet, jumped out the cab at an intersection and I lost
him. Since the cabby dropped me off here and you drugged me I decided to stay
here and sleep it off. Not like I'd be much good with that crap in my body
anyway. Got a problem with that?" Vic snarled.
"My office in one hour Mansfield—then we'll talk," Rictor shot back, her eyes
flashing hellfire and the devil's retribution. Yup—his career was screwed. She
slammed out of the condo, taking the demons of hell with her.
Quickly walking back to the bedroom, Vic thanked whatever god watched out for him
that she was too pissed to search the place. "Mac, baby... we gotta...
MAC?"
All Mac knew was that one minute he was curled up comfortably next to a very warm
body and the next he was sitting up with the pounding on the door raising a
sympathetic ache in his head. His next movement proved that last night had
definitely left it's impression on him in more ways then one.
Grimacing at the feel of dried semen on his skin, Mac slid out of the bed and
padded toward the doorway, intent on finding Victor and the shower—and then
hopefully enjoying both of them before he had to go. Man he was going to be so
dead, but it had been worth it, god had it been worth it.
Poised to make an entrance into the outer room, Mac's grin faded when he heard
the door open and Victor's groaned out question. Captain? Is he in the army or
something? The answer the sultry voiced woman gave set off all the thief's
warning bells. This was not good, not good at all.
As Mac made a mad scramble for his clothes, he heard the words that slammed the
lid on coffin containing any hope that he might have had for a misunderstanding.
Detective Mansfield! Fuck, fuck, fuck. A cop! Now it all made sense and he
cursed himself for being so gullible. A setup, the whole damn thing had been an
opportunity for someone to go after the family. Well, they weren't going to get
in through him that easily.
Yanking his jeans on, Mac glanced around, looking for his shirt, but didn't see
it. What he did see was the cop's t shirt and jacket. Hell, anything would do at
this point. Viciously thrusting away the way the scent that lingered on the brown
leather and black cotton caused his body to want to react, the young man grabbed
his sneakers, knotted the laces together and slung them around his neck.
A quick check of the balcony provided the escape route he needed and, with an
agile drop to the ledge below and an expert jimmying of the lock on the sliding
glass doors, Mac vanished.
Transportation back to the hotel wasn't a problem, there was a subway stop nearby
and even without quite knowing where he was, Mac was able to trace a route back
to the Royal York. Still cursing himself for being ten thousand kinds of a fool
and knowing that he deserved everything Father was going to do to him, Mac jogged
up to the entrance, then ducked inside.
Luckily, no one he recognized was in the lobby, or the hallway once he got off
the elevator and Mac was congratulating himself on a clean entrance when the door
to Li Ann's room cracked open and she hissed his name.
"What's wrong?" It had to be something serious, her skin was pale and her eyes
red-rimmed. Li Ann never cried. Never.
After casting a nervous glance toward both ends of the hall, Li Ann pulled Mac
into the room, easing the door shut behind him. "You need to get out of here,"
she whispered, the slightest tremor entering her voice.
Mac frowned, ducking his head to try and get a better view of his foster sister's
expression. "Pop that mad at me?" It was a feeble joke at best, but then
considering everything that had happened in the last 24 hours it was an admirable
effort.
"Father is dead. He... Last night when he was coming back, there was an
accident... " Fresh tears flowed, obscuring Li Anne's dark eyes and she blindly
thrust a heavy backpack into Mac's numb hands.
"Michael says it's because he was out looking for you. He's going to kill you if
he sees you, Mac. Please. I can't lose you too."
"But—but—" The young thief's headache intensified and he clutched at the
nylon webbing of the pack as if it could be used to bind the pieces of his life
back together.
"Ramsey!" Michael's bellow echoed with the banging of the door against the wall
as it flew open. "You are a dead man!"
"Whoa, whoa, Michael. I don't know what you think, but I didn't do anything." The
psychotic haze that covered Michael's gaze had Mac edging away from the heavier
teen. He'd seen that look before, and the outcome had never been pleasant for
those it was directed at.
For a brief second, Mac actually contemplated letting Michael get his hands on
him. If what he said was true, his death was the least he owed the family. But
then he'd never get retribution from those who set this whole fiasco in motion
and that was what he wanted most of all.
Screaming vicious epithets, Michael lunged for Mac, swinging the knife in his
hand with deadly force. The younger man dove out of the way at the last second,
gasping as the extent of the last night's activities made themselves known again.
That slight delay allowed Michael's knife to find a bit of purchase in the
leather jacket Mac wore, but it gave after a moment's resistance.
With one fleeting look that begged for forgiveness, Mac was out the door, racing
down the hall past the startled Tang enforcers who took up the chase at Michael's
screamed out orders. When Mac finally lost them, he was deep in one of the
seedier areas of Toronto with no idea where he was and no hint as to what he
should do next.
The thief slid into a booth at a run down diner and painfully released the
deathgrip he had on the backpack. Whatever was in it, it had to be useful if Li
Ann put it in there. After nodding to the waitress's query regarding coffee, Mac
lowered his face into his hands, feeling the tremors that had threatened to
overtake him all day gain control.
This trip sucked.
The Honey Trap
his trip sucked.
