No Boundaries by SE Jakes

Author:SE Jakes [Jakes, SE]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: male/male, m/m
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

Paolo

Styx almost caught him on the way to the third floor—Paolo had been cornered, unable to go down, so his only hope of escape was the third-floor attic, where he could lock himself in.

Or let himself get caught. Eventually. But first, the chase. Because it was fun to throw taunts about “old men huffing and puffing to keep up” as he skirted them. As Law’s hand nearly closed on his biceps, Paolo ducked and rolled out of the narrow hallway and into one of the bedrooms, locking the door behind him. He leaned his full body weight against it, wondering if they’d actually kick the door down while they had other people staying in the house.

He could only hope.

A minute passed. Then two. And then he turned his head right and found Law.

Inside the room. With him.

“How the fuck?” Paolo asked and Law shrugged.

“Old men have their secrets.” He moved to Paolo, who stayed pressed to the door, and reached overhead to unlock the deadbolt. He smiled. Then he flipped Paolo onto his back on the floor and was straddling him when Styx walked in carrying the two camera monitors. He set them up on the night table as Law guided him to the bed on all fours. Half mounted him and whispered, “You keep your eye on those screens. You can’t not look, can’t not keep the house safe, no matter what else is happening, right?”

Ah fuck. He opened his mouth to protest, to apologize, to something, but he couldn’t. Not when Law’s hand began reaching under his shirt, playing with his nipple. Not when Law yanked his jeans down and swatted his bare ass hard. Once, twice, and he groaned, loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

“How many, Paolo?” Styx asked.

“Two,” he managed.

“Outside?”

His gaze fixed on the screens, put close together so he could sweep them with one look. “Clear.”

“Really?” Styx sounded amused. “Look again, because the old man swears he sees something.”

“Ah, okay… Mrs. Sellers. Walking…” Slap. “Her.” Slap. “Dog.” Slap.

“Good,” Law crooned, and Styx, the taskmaster, asked, “How many?” and Paolo had no fucking idea, and told Styx exactly that. Which earned him more slaps. Which he didn’t count. He cursed them both, which earned him more hot, delicious, burning slaps from Law’s hand until he sagged and felt the salted tears burning his cheeks. But he kept his eyes on the camera because, hell, he hadn’t meant to forget that.

And then Law was kissing his cheeks and Paolo was murmuring “sorry” about distracting them, and Law was holding him and telling him that they counted on him for good distractions.

“I’ve got this, Paolo. I can watch the perimeters and your show at the same time.” Styx’s deep voice was softer now, his hand running through Paolo’s hair, and, fuck, they loved him so goddamned much that sometimes it hurt to think about.

Law was guiding him to his back now, spreading his legs, fingering his hole. His abused ass checks burned against the comforter, but man, it felt so good too.

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