Paying The Piper - 21. Chapter 21

Braden’s office was a mess, but Quent had expected no less. The man was an animal. Despite his thorough search, however, he found nothing of interest that connected the man to either of the murders or to his clumsy extortion attempt. Quent sat behind the desk and grabbed a pencil and a piece of paper. A second later, he dropped the pencil with a hiss. He nudged the offending implement into the circle of lamp light and examined it. The surface was liberally pocked with teeth marks. It looked as though a rabid dog had been snacking on it. He wiped his hand on his pants, his face pinched in disgust.

He finally found a pencil that hadn’t been gnawed and penned a note, keeping the message brief and to the point. White had a better chance of understanding simple language and it also shortened the amount of time Quent had to hold the offending pencil.

Before he left, he read over it once.

White,

You filthy, lying pig.

Quent smiled. A childish but essential opening.

When you get back, call me. I may be willing to listen to your side of the story before I arrest you and throw you in jail for the rest of your pathetic life.

Okay, a bald-faced lie. Quent planned to arrest him the second he laid eyes on the bastard. But it didn’t hurt to give a little false hope.

You underestimated Cale.

A lie followed up by the truth. White would be thoroughly confused.

Do not test my patience. Contact me immediately upon your return.

Quent

A simple two-part command. A three-year old could manage it.

Satisfied with his efforts, Quent swept out of the office and toward the bar. He had thought about simply leaving, but couldn’t shush the ever-present devil on his shoulder. Besides, he rarely fought the urge to cause trouble. It was a losing battle, and Quent hated to lose. He signaled Schmidt, who approached cautiously.

"Never fear. He went to visit a sick relative," Quent lied. "It says so right on his desk." The bartender relaxed, pleased for the rational explanation.

"There’s also a note that says, ‘remind Schmidt about the free round for everyone on Friday night.’ Did he remind you?" Quent queried innocently.

Schmidt blinked then smiled. "No. But that’ll go over well with everyone."

"Of that I have no doubt," Quent deadpanned.

**********

The weather worsened as Cale approached Farther's Run. Only one road led into and out of town from the east. Tonight it was devoid of cars. Obviously, everyone else had opted to stay out of the storm. Cale’s speed dropped even further as the rain and wind picked up.

He cursed under his breath and flipped on the defroster as the windows started to fog. Behind him, someone flashed their high beams. "Crazy bastard," Cale mumbled. He was already going too fast for the weather conditions.

The lights flashed again, then stayed bright. "You son of a bitch," Cale hissed. Light flooded the car, making it even more difficult for him to see. He glanced in his side mirror, wanting a look at who was behind him. The pattern of lights was strange. It didn’t seem to be a car, but it didn’t look like a truck or an SUV. Cale slowed down even further, and signaled for the other car to pass him.

The other car sped up and swung over into the other lane, and Cale breathed a sigh of relief. Suddenly, it veered and slammed into him. Cale lurched forward and lost his hold on the steering wheel. The car careened out of control and he barely managed to stay on the road. Just as he got his breath back, however, he was hit again. This time, he did lose control and went plunging into the ditch.

The other car sped away into the rainy night. Cale hung over the steering wheel, willing his heart to calm. After a few minutes, he tried backing out of the ditch, but his tires spun uselessly in the mud.

A quick glance around reassured him. He was close to home. In fact, Jim’s house was less than a quarter mile down the road. Cale pulled out his cell phone. He called Quent again, but his friend still didn’t answer. Cale frowned and tried not to worry. Quent could take care of himself.

Sighing, he shrugged out of his suit jacket and got out of the car. The rain soaked him immediately. He trudged up to the road and began the walk to Jim’s house. It was cold and wet. The wind stung his face. None of that mattered to Cale, though. Soon, he would see Drew.

**********

Drew had been home for half an hour and was on his third beer. Three was his limit. Actually, two was his limit. It seemed an appropriate night to get drunk, however. When he'd arrived home a few minutes past nine, he’d found the power out and three new boxes stacked on his tiny dining table. At least the electricity had come back on a few minutes later.

Drew eyed the boxes with distaste. He knew when he agreed to this job that the records transfer was going to be boring. What he hadn’t anticipated was the brutal pace Jim insisted he keep. Jim was a nice guy, if a bit quirky, but also a bit compulsive. More than once in the past week Drew had assured the other man he would finish the job no matter how long it took, but the message hadn’t sunk in. And it didn’t help that the files he kept leaving for Drew were in abysmal shape - whole pages of documents were missing. Jim had waved his concerns off, blithely promising that they would turn up eventually, and had assured Drew that by then he would be comfortable enough with the program to enter the data himself. Drew hoped so.

As he tossed the bottle cap away the lights flickered again, which they had been doing with almost every bolt of lightning. Rain splattered and blew against the windows. Drew ignored the storm. Instead, he sat on his couch and let his mind drift. He was considering a fourth beer when someone knocked on his door.

Lightning flashed as he crossed the room. He opened the door, but nearly slammed it closed again when he saw Cale on the doorstep. Dear God, he didn’t have the strength for this. Taking a deep breath, Drew pasted a deliberately breezy smile on his face.

"Cale," he greeted. He cocked his head. "Did you drive the convertible?"

A ghost of a smile crossed Cale’s face. "Car trouble. I walked."

Drew reached out into the rain and grabbed Cale by the arm. He pulled him over the threshold, just out of the drenching downpour. "Idiot. Why didn’t you call?"

Cale tried to blink the water out of his eyes. "I did. No one answered."

Drew sighed and apologized. "I’ve only been home for a little while. And that damn answering machine never works right. Especially with the power cutting in and out like this." Drew clamped his mouth shut, suddenly aware that he was rambling. Cale didn’t seem to mind. He stared at Drew with a small smile on his face. God help me, Drew thought.

"Let me get you a towel." He escaped into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Groaning softly, he prayed for his resolve to return, but it stayed stubbornly out of reach. A side-effect of his three beer indulgence most likely. Quickly, he splashed some water on his face. "Pull it together," he admonished his reflection. "You’re a big boy now. Way too old to be thinking with your dick." He grabbed a towel on his way out the door.

Cale was standing right where Drew had left him, dripping and shivering. Drew steeled his heart. "Listen, get dried a little," he said. "Then I’ll take you back to your car. Get you going again if I can. I know a few things about engines. When I was gro—" Suddenly aware that he was rambling again, he cut himself off. Cale’s smile broadened.

"You know a little about everything," Cale remarked. He took the towel, but didn’t use it.

Drew sensed his honorable intentions wavering. The alcohol wasn’t helping. In a panic, he reached over and grabbed his keys out of the bowl by the door. "Are you ready?"

"Not yet." Cale reached out and placed his palm against Drew’s chest.

Drew caught his breath. Cale’s hand was chilled from the rain. But where it touched him, his skin burned. Nerve endings sparked and crackled. "Cale," he warned.

"Please," Cale said softly. His hand slid slowly down Drew’s chest until his fingers grazed his navel. "Please," he repeated. The tension that had been simmering since Drew opened the door exploded around them.

Drew dropped his keys. He took two steps forward, crowding Cale against the door. He grabbed Cale’s hands in his and pinned them against the wood. Cale moaned softly. His eyes shuttered closed.

"Open your eyes," Drew demanded.

Cale did. They stared at each other. Restlessly, Cale strained for more contact, but Drew tightened his hold on Cale’s wrists and leaned forward. Cale’s lips parted, urging him to hurry. But instead of kissing him, Drew flicked his tongue over Cale’s cheek, lapping up a raindrop.

Drew’s tongue, rough and hot, shot straight to Cale’s groin. He was hard and aching and had been since he had climbed the stairs and knocked on the door. He couldn’t believe how this man made him feel. Just when he thought he had reached the height of his arousal, Drew did something else to drive it up a notch.

Cale whimpered when the tongue retreated. Immediately, it was back for another cool drop of water, this time on the opposite cheek. He floated in a haze of arousal while Drew meticulously licked the rain from his face. Finally, the wicked teasing tongue darted out to catch the last drop of water that was perched on the corner of Cale’s mouth. Cale moaned openly. He turned his head to capture Drew’s lips.

Drew backed off, not allowing the kiss. Cale sighed in protest and pleaded with his eyes. He strained against Drew’s hands.

Drew stared into his eyes. "Point of no return," he whispered.

Cale nodded impatiently. He leaned forward. Drew met him halfway.

The kiss was desperate from the beginning. Messy and wet, and the most arousing Drew could ever remember. He closed the last few inches between them and pressed his whole body against Cale. His t-shirt and jeans immediately became soaked with rainwater. Cale jerked away, putting a few inches between them.

"I’m making you wet," he gasped.

"Uh huh." Drew released Cale’s wrists and took advantage of the distance. He worked his hands between them and fumbled with the buttons on Cale’s dress shirt. It was no use. His fingers wouldn’t cooperate and his mind was three steps ahead, already anticipating the feel of Cale’s bare skin. "Fuck," he whispered. He buried his face in Cale’s neck and laughed softly. Cale’s hands slid up Drew’s back and into his hair. He laughed too.

Drew turned his face into Cale’s throat. He latched onto the cool skin and sucked. Cale’s laughter dried up. He arched against Drew, groaning when their hips met and slid together. Drew’s mouth moved to Cale’s ear. "You do the shirt. I’ll do the rest," he said in a rough voice. As he spoke, he pulled Cale’s belt free of his suit pants.

Cale voice shook when he spoke. "You got the easy part."

"Are you complaining?" Drew asked breathlessly. He slid his hand into Cale’s pants and cupped his swollen erection in his hand. Cale’s legs began to tremble. His hands flew to his shirt and he ripped at the buttons.

"Hurry. Hurry," Drew urged him. Cale did and a few buttons paid the price. Drew helped pull the shirt free and slid it off his shoulders. He groaned when he saw the undershirt. "So proper," he teased. He urged Cale to lift his arms and slipped it over his head. Once it was on the floor, where it belonged, he leaned back, taking in the muscled chest and dark nipples. His gaze dropped to the erection tenting Cale’s suit pants.

Drew shook his head as he pressed forward. "I’m never going to last," he whispered before he captured Cale’s mouth again. Cale returned the kiss fervently, moaning low in his throat. Drew rocked his hips forward over and over until he felt Cale grab them, stilling their movement. He broke the kiss, giving one last suck to Cale’s tongue. "What?" he asked. Cale’s eyes were squeezed shut. His grip on Drew’s hips was punishing, and his body was rigid. "Cale?" Drew prompted. "Look at me."

Cale shook his head once. "Can’t," he admitted in a strained voice.

Drew leaned back in and kissed his neck. "You there already?" he asked softly. Embarrassed, Cale nodded. Drew bushed another kiss across the sensitive skin and began to work Cale’s suit pants open. Before Cale could react, his trousers and underwear was around his ankles and Drew was kneeling in front of him. He cooperated when Drew urged him to step out of his shoes and discard the rest of his clothing.

"Look at me," Drew prompted. Cale opened his eyes. Slowly, Drew leaned up and brushed his cheek against Cale’s cock. Immediately, Cale’s eyes snapped shut again. His head fell back hard against the door. His legs trembled uncontrollably and his knees threatened to buckle. Drew wrapped an arm around his thighs, bracing him.

Drew was exhilarated. Drunk on the power he had over the other man. And he wanted him to watch. To see. "Cale," he whispered. He tightened his thumb and forefinger around the base of Cale’s cock. "Cale. Look at me."

Slowly, Cale’s eyes opened. Just as slowly, he brought his head forward until he was looking down at Drew. He brought one trembling hand to Drew’s cheek and stroked the skin there. Drew nuzzled his hand and turned to lick the palm. Cale caught his breath and his hips jerked forward. Quickly, Drew increased the pressure on the base of Cale’s cock. He felt some of the tension ebb.

"Don’t close your eyes," Drew said. "Look at me. Look at us." He covered the tip of Cale’s erection with his mouth.

Cale began to pant. His eyes locked on Drew’s, he gasped out one word. "Please."

Drew gave in. He sank onto Cale’s cock, swallowing him completely. At the same time, he released the tight hold he had been keeping with his fingers and reached down to cup Cale’s balls in his hand. Cale shouted in surprise. Then he groaned a warning. Drew ignored it.

He slid Cale’s cock first in and then out of his mouth. Once. Twice. As he sunk down on the swollen organ a third time, he glanced up through his hair and their eyes met. That was all it took. Cale came with a shout, his hands tightly fisted in Drew’s hair. His body convulsed powerfully, nearly knocking Drew backward. He gasped and cursed and sobbed Drew’s name. Drew sucked him gently until the tremors eased, then stopped. Gently, he eased Cale back to earth. With soft touches, he guided him to slide down the door and into his lap.

Cale folded his arms around Drew and Drew did the same. They shared soft kisses and soft words and listened to the staccato beat of the rain on the roof. The lights flickered again as the power surged with yet another bolt of lightning.

Drew’s answering machine beeped and whirred. Briefly, the number "0" showing in the display changed to "1." Then it beeped again and the display changed once more to show zero messages waiting. Neither man noticed.