Special Delivery: Special Delivery, Book 1 (20 page)

Mitch stroked Sam’s face. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”

“I’m not.” Sam took the musky tip of Mitch’s finger into his mouth. “Can we go inside?”

Mitch nodded and opened the door.

Sam brought the bag from the sex shop, and they walked side by side without touching all the way back to Old Blue. Once inside, Mitch disappeared into the bathroom, and Sam stood in the darkened cab, trying to decide what to do.

He fiddled with his phone until music played softly. He chose Kylie, needing comfort, but he put on
Impossible Princess
, because he needed edgy and extra sexy. When Mitch came out, he smiled shyly and took his turn in the bathroom. He removed the cock ring and put it in his pocket, but when he started on the beads, he heard Mitch call him. He hesitated, but left them alone and opened the door.

Mitch grabbed him, hauling him out of the bathroom, and pinned him to the floor.

Sam flailed, more from surprise than anything, but when Mitch’s hands were on his clothes, he stopped and helped him, sitting up and pulling his shirt over his body as Mitch tugged ruthlessly at his jeans and underwear until he was naked. Before Sam could get his T-shirt over his wrists, Mitch trapped it there, tangled and bunched, and he pushed Sam’s hands high above his head. Something thick and rough slid around first one wrist, then the other, and when he tried to pull his arms back down, they were stuck fast. He heard the metal scrape of chain.
The cuffs,
he realized.
The cuffs with a chain between them.

He was bound.

Mitch was on his knees now, and Sam watched, his erection thickening as Mitch fastened the nylon cuffs to his ankles and looped the rope though them. Lifting Sam’s legs one at a time, Mitch snaked the cord through something in the ceiling before bringing it down to truss up Sam’s other leg in the same manner. When he finished, Sam’s ass barely touched the floor, and his legs were open in an obscene V, his bead-filled ass gaping beneath his swollen dick.
Too much,
he wanted to cry, but that was the fear talking. Lust rose, higher and faster than the fear, and he heard his own confession from the pickup echoing in his ears.

It’s okay to do this, to be this slutty,
Sam told himself,
if Mitch wants it too.

Mitch stood, surveyed his work, then looked at Sam. His gaze was full of question. But there was lust, too, and want. He enjoyed what he’d done to Sam. He liked the idea of what was coming. He didn’t think Sam was a dirty whore.

He thought Sam was a
beautiful
whore.

“Please.” Sam strained against his bonds with a terrible sort of pleasure. “
Please.
”

“Please what?”

Sam struggled, thrusting his hips into the air. “Please do something to me.”

“Something slutty?”

“
Yes.
” Sam’s eyes stayed on Mitch’s waist.

Mitch’s hand slid over his own groin. “Give me an example.”

Sam licked his lips. “Take off your pants, and put your cock in me. Please.”

“Where in you, Sam?”

Sam shuddered. “In my mouth.”

Mitch unbuckled, unfastened and undressed. Sam’s mouth went dry as Mitch straddled him, knelt and nudged his penis past Sam’s lips.

Sam engulfed it, moaning as he sucked, opening his throat, watching the rough tuft of blond hair until he had to close his eyes because his face was buried in it. When Mitch pulled Sam’s head back, Sam held still, letting Mitch thrust inside him, almost choking. Mitch grunted and gasped, and then he simply fucked Sam’s mouth mercilessly, taking away Sam’s breath until Mitch spent himself inside. When Mitch withdrew, Sam coughed and winced around his tender jaw as he struggled to swallow Mitch’s load.

Mitch knelt beside him and took Sam’s face in his hands.

“I don’t want to go too far with you.” Mitch stared down into Sam’s eyes with a fear greater than anything Sam had felt in the bar. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want—”

To lose you.
Sam could hear the unspoken words, could see them in Mitch’s eyes, even in the dark. Sam nuzzled his hand.

“I want to go too far,” Sam whispered. “With you.”

Mitch caught Sam’s mouth, teasing him into a kiss. Sam shut his eyes as Mitch kissed and licked at the spunk around his mouth, his lips, and then stole inside, kissing him deeply.

After breaking the kiss, Mitch moved to Sam’s exposed anus, and Sam watched as Mitch tugged at the cord. Sam fought and bucked and struggled against his bonds as Mitch removed the beads, one by one, and when they were all out, he gasped as Mitch pushed his finger inside, sawing slowly in and out of him.

“You’re so hot inside, Sunshine. So hot and tight.” Mitch lifted Sam’s ass, spreading his cheeks wide, enjoying the view. He played with Sam awhile, opening and closing him, fingering him until Sam bucked and begged and pleaded to be fucked.

Mitch took out the dildo Sam had chosen, smeared it with lube and pushed it inside of Sam with one stroke, burying it to the base. Sam arched and shut his eyes, waiting for the thrust. But Mitch only teased him with it, turning it around inside him, spinning it, until Sam nearly wept with need. Mitch only smiled, saying nothing, and continued his torture.

Eventually Mitch withdrew the dildo, untied Sam’s restraints and carried him to the bed. Sam kissed him, trying to urge him into engagement, but Mitch only turned Sam around, pressing his own erection into Sam’s back as he drew Sam to his chest. He didn’t touch Sam’s penis, but he stroked his chest instead, and his nipples, and his neck.

Sam was so aroused he ached. He strained against Mitch, making pleading sounds, but Mitch quieted him with kisses and more tender strokes. “Give me a minute, Sunshine.”

Sam didn’t want a minute. “
Mitch.
” He bucked.

Mitch’s hand closed tight around the base of Sam’s shaft, not hurting him, but it was the cock ring all over again. “A minute, Sunshine.”

Sam stilled as best he could and gave him one.

Mitch kept his hand on Sam’s dick, but once Sam had calmed, Mitch briefly caught his mouth, then simply held him. Despite Sam’s arousal, the embrace was so sweet, so peaceful, that Sam calmed. It was so good to be held, such a strange juxtaposition to the hardcore scene they’d just finished. Sam felt soft inside, so soft it was almost dangerous.
I would do anything for him.
Anything.

He stilled a little more, eager but also apprehensive to see what
anything
would turn out to be.

Something brushed his ass, and Sam startled. When he realized it was a cold finger-full of lube, Sam shifted and opened for Mitch in anticipation of what was to come. Mitch nipped at Sam’s shoulder and hip, and Sam, wordless and half-hypnotized, lifted his ass into the air as he pressed his face into the pillow.

Something slid beneath his belly.
The strap
, he realized, and let his body soften, opening to Mitch as he thrust. It was a silent, wicked fucking, slow and thorough, Mitch grinding his hips against Sam, nudging his thighs wide. He pulled Sam tight to his pelvis with the strap, until Sam couldn’t move at all, and his cries went higher and higher as Mitch’s cock went deeper inside him.

“What’s too far now, Sam?” Mitch thrust roughly as he spoke. “What do you need?”

“Come inside me.” Sam gripped the sheets. “
Now,
Mitch. I want—almost hurt—deeper—
oh.
”

His cries poured out on a sigh, and he nearly came, but Mitch came first, shuddering as he pushed into Sam. When he let go, Sam fell to the bed, and Mitch collapsed on top of him. Before Sam could recover, Mitch rolled them over, slipped the strap around Sam’s leg, put the handles in one hand and yanked Sam’s legs apart.

He encouraged Sam to stroke himself, then tucked his other leg to the side, opening him until Sam felt himself gape. Mitch tickled at Sam’s anus. Then he hauled back and slapped it.

The sound rang out through the cab, and Sam cried out as Mitch slapped him again and again. The pain shot through Sam but the pleasure did too, until he bucked and wanked and grunted as he watched Mitch spank his tender hole. When Sam tensed, Mitch jammed his finger deep, caught his mouth and kissed him as he came.

Was it the alcohol making Sam spiral so high, so far, so totally beyond any control he’d ever known? Was the buzzing inside him because he was, in all honesty, quite drunk? Was that why he’d behaved with so much abandon? Was that why he’d not only let Mitch use him this way but encouraged him?

Or was this what he truly wanted, and Mitch had only brought it out of him?

Mitch lowered them to the bed and drew Sam to him, spunk and all. “We’ll buy new sheets tomorrow.” Mitch kissed him, and Sam shut his eyes, shut off his thoughts and sank into those loving arms.

Chapter Fourteen

It had been a wonderful, incredible night, but when Sam woke the next morning, he immediately wished he were dead.

Mitch wasn’t in the bed beside him, but Sam could hear him moving around. Every scrape and shuffle echoed in his aching head, and he groaned, falling back into the pillow.

“Need the toilet?” Mitch called, and Sam grunted in reply.

Mitch pointed at the mini kitchen. “Water’s in the fridge. Aspirin’s in the cupboard. I gotta go get this rig loaded.” He came close to the bed and touched Sam’s hair. “You gonna be okay?”

Sam tried to nod, but it hurt too much. He gave Mitch a thumbs-up instead, rolled over into the pillow and did his best to go to sleep.

This proved impossible, however, as every time he drifted off there would be another bump and scrape from things being loaded into the trailer. Eventually he gave up and made a twenty-minute project of getting himself to the toilet, where he emptied first one end and then the other. He rested for some time with his head on the lid before cleaning up both the room and himself with a shower. By the time he got dried and dressed, Mitch was peeking his head through the curtain.

“You gonna be able to ride okay?” he asked, when he got a good look at Sam’s green face. Sam nodded carefully. “Good, because we’re leaving in ten minutes. You need us to stop anywhere on the way out? Need anything? Something to eat? Peppermint, maybe?”

Sam considered for a minute. “Gum?”

“Can do.” His eyes flickered over the bed. “And spare sheets.”

Sam blushed, remembering the crust of semen he’d washed off himself in the shower, remembering how it got there.

Mitch cleared his throat. “Any regrets, now that it’s morning?”

Flashes of touches, glances and sensations played across Sam’s mental screen. “Only the alcohol.”

Mitch studied him a moment. Then he nodded, appearing satisfied. “Get ready to roll then, Sunshine.”

They were on the road in less than ten minutes, in fact, though they stopped almost immediately at a strip mall along the way where Mitch ducked into a budget store and came out with several changes of sheets, four packets of gum, Pepto-Bismol and two Starbucks cups. Sam held up his hands at the cup Mitch pushed at him, until Mitch showed him the tea bag hanging from the side.

“Peppermint.” He set it in the holder nearest Sam’s seat and pointed to the bag on the floor between them. “There’s peppermint candy, too, in there with your gum. In case.”

“You’re a believer in peppermint, I take it.” Sam sipped the tea, feeling a bit steadier after.

Mitch shrugged as he pulled his seat belt across his body. “Gives me comfort, I guess. My mom gave it to me when I was little. Seemed it fixed about anything.”

Sam rooted the sack of hard candy out of the bag. “It was spearmint with my mom. She didn’t care for peppermint.”

“Oh.” Mitch seemed disappointed. “You should have said—I would have gotten that instead.”

“No—I hate it, especially now. The smell of spearmint Life Savers makes me think of my mom lying there rasping in her bed.”

Mitch grimaced. “No spearmint, then.”

Sam unwrapped a piece of candy and popped it in his mouth. He offered a piece to Mitch, who declined.

“How old were you again?” Mitch asked. “When your mom passed? Seventeen, you said? So you were out of school?”

“I was a senior in high school, but between her being sick and my being so upset after, I dropped out and started over the next fall, which was why I didn’t start college until I was twenty.” He propped his feet on the dash and slouched a little in his chair, looking out the window as the interstate led them into the foothills. They’d driven for half an hour, but they still were quite some distance away from the mountains. “My aunt put me in counseling, which upset me at the time, but I’m glad for it now. I should probably go back. Sometimes I’m still angry Mom had to die.” He ran his finger down the glass of the window. “She fought MS almost my whole life, and then cancer killed her. It felt like God cheated. And that he was really fucking mean.”

Sam retreated into silence, sipping his tea and sucking his candy as they wound into the foothills at last, distracted by how much they seemed like mountains.

“My mom ran off when I was eight,” Mitch said, out of nowhere. Sam looked at him, surprised, but Mitch kept his eyes on the road, except when he was reaching for his coffee, and even then he only glanced at the console. “Went off with some guy she met at a bar. She puts it better now, said Dad hit her, but I didn’t know it then. I only knew she was gone.”