Chapter Twelve
Travis stood in the hotel shower, hands planted on the wall, the hot water beating down on the back of his neck. He kept his eyes closed, silently hoping for a moment’s peace from the chaos that was running wild through his brain.
He’d slept for shit last night, tossing and turning, desperate for information while at the same time terrified of what it might entail.
Kylie alive? He knew it wasn’t even possible. He’d seen her. Lifeless. Cold.
Dead.
His chest tightened the same as it had when Brantley hit him with that revelation yesterday morning. Since then, he’d been stuck in this mental vortex of memories. Everything was being stirred up by this warped sense of hope that he couldn’t shake.
A single knock sounded, followed by, “You okay in here?”
Gage.
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.
“Travis?”
Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to shove off the memories that insisted on pummeling him. He refused to break down, refused to succumb to the pain that he’d finally managed to wrangle under control. For the most part.
There was only one way to fight his demons right now, so he stood tall.
“Get in here,” he commanded Gage, his voice hoarse and rough. “Now.”
His husband didn’t respond, but he knew he was listening.
Travis waited patiently, focusing on his breathing, searching for that store of inner calm that he’d been depleting at a rapid rate in recent days. Just when he’d managed to settle into his new normal, to accept this fucked-up existence as normal, someone went and threw a wrench into the works.
He drew air in through his nose and blew it out slowly, turning when he heard Gage step into the large shower stall. Travis paused to look at the man. Really look at him.
At forty-two, Jason Gage Matthews was in his prime.
He’d spent the past year and a half making drastic changes to his lifestyle, likely his only coping mechanism in the sea of chaos they now floated in.
He was bigger, stronger, and yeah, more handsome than he’d ever been.
And Travis only had to look at him to get hard, to ache, to need.
Travis grabbed Gage’s forearm, slowly wrapping his fingers around it before pulling him close. Gage moved hesitantly, eyes skimming his face. It was clear he was attempting to gauge Travis’s mood, to figure out what was about to happen.
He kept pulling until they were chest to chest, then he placed Gage’s palm on his back, wanting to feel the man’s touch. When Gage got with the program, his fingertips digging into Travis’s muscles, kneading gently, he gripped Gage’s jaw and slowly lowered his head.
“I’m holdin’ it together with a rusted chain link,” he admitted, his voice low.
“I know.”
“I don’t know how much longer I can do it, Gage.”
“However long it takes.”
Travis wished he had Gage’s strength, his mental fortitude. “And if I can’t?”
Gage pulled him closer, his other arm banding around him. “Then you let me catch you when you fall.”
Those words caused his chest to tighten, his heart to swell.
He loved this man with all that he was. Deep down, he knew Gage deserved better, and that was the reason Travis was fighting to be a better man.
To be what his husband and kids needed. It wasn’t easy when a piece of him was missing.
A large piece of his heart had been chiseled off when Kylie died, and time did not seem to be healing those jagged edges.
Travis gripped Gage’s face in both hands.
Pressing his thumb to Gage’s chin, he forced the man’s mouth open.
His eyes remained open until their lips met.
Only then did he close them, giving himself over to the kiss as he slid his tongue inside Gage’s mouth.
He kissed him. Insistent, demanding. Showing Gage what he wanted, what he needed.
As had been the case for years now, Gage already knew.
He was right there with him, their tongues mating, hands roaming as the hot water poured down on them both.
As the kiss intensified, so did Travis’s need. His hands became more insistent, clutching, gripping, controlling. It was his natural instinct to dominate, and he loved that Gage wasn’t so quick to surrender. The fight in the man he loved stirred him, made him burn.
Before he even realized what he was doing, Travis had his hand around Gage’s throat. He was squeezing. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to control. Gage’s eyes glazed, his lips parting as he stared back at him.
Without a word spoken, Gage stepped forward, pushing against Travis’s hand, tightening his grip.
When his back met the tile, Travis continued to watch him, waiting.
The instant Gage went to his knees, Travis’s control snapped.
He grabbed two fistfuls of Gage’s hair, staring down at him as his husband took his cock between his lips.
“Fuck yes,” he whispered, loving that Gage knew what to do to soothe and torment in equal measure. “That’s it, baby. Suck my dick.” He grunted, pleasure surging in his blood. “Oh, sweet Jesus. Fuck that feels good.”
Gage stared up at him as he took Travis to the root. Somehow, the eye contact made it hotter. Sparks of sensation danced at the base of Travis’s spine as the pleasure took hold.
“You look good like that,” Travis crooned. “On your knees. My dick in your mouth.”
He inhaled sharply when Gage’s hands cupped the back of his thighs, gripping firmly, kneading the muscles. His touch did that to him. Grounded him in the moment, kept him there.
The pleasure increased as the minutes ticked by.
Travis let it build, pushing him closer and closer to the edge.
When he was riding that fine line between pleasure and bliss, he tightened his hold on Gage’s hair, stopping him.
Fisting his cock with his other hand, Travis held off his release with sheer force of will.
“I’m gonna fuck your mouth. Hard,” he warned.
Gage’s eyes glittered hotly.
“Then I’m gonna come down your throat.” He canted his head, studying Gage’s face. “When I’m done, I’m gonna wash and you’re gonna sit on that bench and jack off for me.”
Gage’s lips parted, his eyes rolling back.
Travis took the opportunity to shove his dick back into his husband’s mouth.
He did as he promised, holding Gage by the hair, he drove into his mouth, fucking his throat.
He was rough, but he couldn’t help it. He’d spent most of his adult life living with the frayed edges of his control.
Somehow Gage managed to push him past that.
Always had. And even now, after nearly nine years of marriage, he still did.
He didn’t hold back, grunting and groaning as he sought the release that would reset him for a little while.
“Suck,” he bit out. “Oh, yeah. Take me deep.” He drove into Gage’s throat and groaned. “Just … like … fuck yes. Take it all.”
A rumble started in his chest and rattled its way up his throat, the sound rough as it echoed off the tile when he came down Gage’s throat, his spine tingling from the electric current that arced through his body.
When he was spent, he helped Gage to his feet and kissed him. He gentled his touch, soaking up everything Gage offered.
“I love you.”
“Yes, you do,” Gage whispered, chuckling.
“Careful, baby.”
“Or what?’
“Or I’ll make you jack off until my dick’s hard again. Then I’ll bend you over and fuck you until neither of us can walk.”
Gage’s mouth turned up at the corner. “Promise.”
With a groan, he kissed Gage. He felt reasonably better as he always did when he lost himself in the man he loved. The anxiety would return at some point—likely within the next hour—but for now, he would accept the reprieve.
Gage walked into the hotel restaurant, leaving Travis in the lobby to take a call. He found Brantley and Reese at a table for four in the far corner, both with coffee in front of them.
“Hey,” he greeted as he pulled out a chair. “Travis is on the phone with Sawyer. About the resort.”
“Problems?”
Gage grinned. “Depends on who you ask. Travis’ll say yes because he doesn’t trust anyone to man the fort. Sawyer’ll say no because he does a damn fine job of fillin’ in for Travis when he needs to.”
A waitress approached, smiling. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Coffee.” He held up two fingers. “Two, please.”
“Sure.” She glanced between the three of them. “Are you ready to order?”
“Not yet.” Brantley nodded toward the empty seat. “We’re waitin’ for the lone holdout.”
She giggled, though Gage wasn’t sure it was meant to be funny.
“I’ll be right back with the coffee.”
“So.” Gage looked at Brantley. “I take it Atticus and Archer aren’t joinin’ us.”
“They went to the training center. We’ll meet up with them in a bit. I figured we could talk openly without them here.”
“And by openly, you mean you’ll give us your two cents on why you want us to go home.”
Brantley lifted his cup, smirked. “Somethin’ like that.”
“Well, I’ll tell you now that we are headed home. Shortly, in fact.”
It was apparent that surprised Brantley.
“What you’re doin’ here … it’s important,” Gage said, glancing between them.
“And I know you’re capable of doin’ it without our interference.
” He held up a hand when Brantley would’ve talked.
“I do want you to take the information I’ve got on Censorious.
Give it a look. Maybe it’ll help, maybe it won’t. I don’t know what your end goal is.”
“Yes, you do,” Brantley stated, his tone firm. “You don’t want to believe it, and that’s fine. I’m not sure I do either. But until I prove it one way or the other, I’ll be workin’ this.”
Gage’s gaze dropped to the table. He wanted to tell Brantley that there was absolutely no possibility that Kylie was alive.
He knew because he had seen her after she died.
He’d held her cold, lifeless hand. No amount of dedication to any cause would’ve brought her back to life.
Not even a man who was hellbent on taking down a crime syndicate.
But he didn’t say that. He couldn’t. Denying what they were claiming felt sacrilegious.
He was doing his best not to get his hopes up, but deep down, Gage couldn’t help himself.
He wished with all that he was that they were right.
That somehow it could be true. That Kylie was alive somewhere, and they were going to find her and bring her home.
By not denying that, Gage was putting it in God’s hands.
“Here you are,” the waitress said as she delivered two coffee mugs before refilling Brantley’s and Reese’s. “Are you still waiting?”
“No.” Gage flashed a smile. “We can order.”
The next few minutes were spent relaying what they wanted to the woman while she jotted it all down.
Gage ordered for himself and Travis, knowing exactly what his husband preferred.
They’d been together long enough, Gage pretty much knew what Travis wanted to eat on each day of the week. He was fairly predictable that way.
At least when it came to food. As for everything else, Travis was about as predictable as the stock market.
Travis appeared at the table moments after the waitress left.
“Sorry about that.”
“No worries,” Reese said. “Everything cool?”
“Probably. It’s hard to know when I’m not there.”
“I was tellin’ them we’re headin’ back after breakfast.”
Travis looked at Brantley. “I’m sure that makes you feel better.”
Brantley smirked. “It does.”
“Play nice,” Gage said as he reached for his coffee cup. “Did you get anything worthwhile from dinner with Max?”
“Only that he likes to talk in circles,” Brantley answered.
“That he does,” Travis agreed.
“Keep in mind, he’s got plenty of law enforcement in his pocket,” Gage warned. “You don’t get where he’s at without it. He’s got more than enough protection, which means he also knows who to talk to. If you were lookin’ to incite the bear, you probably succeeded.”
“That wasn’t our intention,” Brantley said. “But yeah. I see your point.”
“I suggest you track down Martin Calloway before Max finds someone to wipe him off the map,” Travis told Brantley.
“That’s the plan.”
Gage didn’t bother asking whether he meant the former or the latter. Knowing Brantley, it could be either.
“I know y’all prefer we steer clear, and we will,” Gage said before Travis could interrupt. “But if you need anything … anything at all, you just need to call.”
“Do you plan to talk to Meredith?” Reese asked.
Gage looked at Travis, who promptly answered with, “No.”
“That’s not necessarily true,” Gage told Reese. “We’re gonna talk to Braydon and Jessie when we get back. Let them know that she’s there. If Jessie wants to see her, we’ll figure out a plan.”
“Just do your best to keep it on the DL,” Brantley said firmly. “The fewer people who know about her, the better. We still don’t know if feds are lurkin’ about, waitin’ for her to appear.”
“We will,” he confirmed. “You have my word.”
“And if you get anything useful from her, I’d appreciate you lettin’ us know,” Brantley said, looking at Travis.
“Sure.” Travis lifted his coffee cup. “Provided you do the same.”
Gage noticed the way Brantley’s features softened when he said, “Of course.”
It was clear Brantley was on the defensive, but Gage didn’t think it was because he didn’t want them involved.
If Gage were a betting man, he would’ve put big money on Brantley carrying around some misplaced guilt.
Ever since Kylie’s death, Gage had noticed the tension between Brantley and Travis.
And while Travis didn’t blame Brantley—none of them did—he got the feeling Brantley still saw himself as responsible.
He only hoped that one day that guilt would fade and they could get back to being friends.
That was all he could hope for because anything else … was simply more heartache waiting to happen.