Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“Give it to me,” Trav says and taps my shoulder.
When I lift my head and kneel upright, I rest back on my ankles. Trav sits up and leans over me, getting right to the point. His head bobs up and down my cock, and I rest my hand on the couch for balance so I can thrust into his mouth.
He takes it all. Every bump to the roof of his mouth, my balls slapping against his chin. He doesn’t even flinch. All he does is continue those moans and sex noises that drive me closer and closer to the edge.
“Fuck!” I gasp.
Trav opens his throat and buries his head in my groin, taking every last drop as I unload in his mouth.
Even when I tell him I’m done, he takes his time, licking up my shaft and twirling his tongue over the head of my dick. Then he looks up at me with that smug smile of his, and I don’t even care.
I’m boneless as I tackle him and collapse on his big body.
I’m all warm and sated, focusing on slowing my breathing as Trav holds me close.
But as weariness sets in, so does reality. My only witness won’t come forward. There’s a bounty on my head. It sounds too absurd to be true, but it is.
The escapism glow is getting shorter and shorter with each orgasm.
I let out a long breath. “We’re not getting me out of this mess, are we?”
Chapter Sixteen
Trav
My heart breaks for Dylan, even if my ego is taking a hit. I make him come his brains out, and his first thought is how I’m going to fail at protecting him.
I run my hand down his sweaty back while he’s slumped on top of me.
I’d make a joke and act hurt if I didn’t sense his need for reassurance. “We’ll figure it out. It might take some time, but I’ll get you out of this.” It might end with me giving him enough money to settle in a foreign country and starting over with a new identity, but that’s a last resort.
Because I wouldn’t be able to go with him, and then what am I supposed to do? Try to find someone else who thinks I’m unbearable? It’s so hard when everyone finds me loveable.
“If you were Walker, what would your next steps be?” Dylan asks.
“Are you asking because you’re curious or because you think I’m on his level and know how a corrupt asshole would think?”
Dylan lifts up to look into my eyes. “Does it matter which it is?”
“When it’s coming from you, it does.”
“Why?” Dylan shifts off me and sits at the other end of the couch. “Is my view of the world really that warped to you?”
I follow suit, taking the spot next to him. We’re both naked, both sweaty and cum drunk, but this conversation is sobering. “It’s not that it’s warped. It’s that you live in a world that’s very black and white. There’s good, and then there’s bad, and there’s no in-between. My life is full of gray areas, and it doesn’t help that I’ve seen a lot of shit done in the name of being ‘right’ or being ‘good’ that is the complete opposite. It’s why I live the way I do and run my company the way I see fit. And yeah, maybe I blur the lines sometimes, and maybe not everything I do is aboveboard, but I can sleep at night because everything I do has a purpose. I try to fight for the greater good instead of only protecting myself. How many of you or your coworkers could say the same?”
Dylan hangs his head. “A couple of days ago, I would’ve defended each and every one of them.”
“And that’s exactly why I need to know why you want my opinion. Because you trust it or because you lump me in with guys like Walker?”
“I … I do trust you. You’re probably the only person I can confidently say that to. Which makes no sense because for years I’ve been adamant you’re hiding some big dark illegal activity. I shouldn’t trust you … but I believe you when you say you’ve never lied to me.”
I rub my cheek because I can’t help the grin that takes over my face, but at the same time, he’s not wrong about illegal activity. And I have the sudden urge to come clean about all of it. “I can’t sit here and pretend I’m a Boy Scout and have never done something morally questionable, but I also don’t think many people can say that they haven’t.”
Dylan goes to open his mouth, but I cut him off.
“Except you. Of course. But my point is being sent into war zones, literally being ordered to take lives by commanding officers, becoming one of those men who has to make those decisions—to allow my team to open fire on people who may or may not be there to kill us … it does take a toll. All of my guys have blood on their hands, including me. All of them have ended lives. But we’re supposed to accept it because our government asked us to. It’s not killing if it’s permitted. And where would I be if I didn’t follow those orders? Most likely, I’d be dead. Because out there, it’s kill or be killed.”