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“Brace yourself, baby. Let’s make him come.”
Michael held on to Jackson’s hip with his left hand and held the base of Jackson’s cock with his right. He kept the tip of Jackson’s cock in his mouth and sucked as Master Finn began to increase the speed of his thrusts. He went from barely any movement to full-out slamming into Jackson.
Jackson’s fingers landed on Michael’s shoulders as Michael held still. Each massive thrust from Finn into Jackson shoved Jackson’s cock down Michael’s throat and he sucked for all he was worth.
It didn’t take any time at all before Jackson was crying out and he filled Michael’s mouth. Try as he might, Michael couldn’t catch it all and ended up having to use his hand in the end.
Not that Jackson seemed to notice as he sank back into Master Finn until Finn yelled out his own release.
The look of peace that crossed Jackson’s face always surprised Michael. A mix between surprise and utter contentment.
Michael kissed Jackson softly to not only show Jackson how much he cared but also share the flavor that coated his tongue. Jackson loved to taste himself from Michael’s mouth and Michael would never complain about that.
They broke away before Finn was kissing Jackson and then Michael.
“Rest,” Finn ordered after he drew back. “I’ll get us cleaned up and something to drink.”
“Coffee,” Jackson mumbled.
Master Finn snorted but didn’t respond. Michael doubted that Jackson was going to get coffee. Not when what he needed was some sleep.
Pulling Jackson down on the warm soft leather couch, Michael cuddled up to Jackson waiting as Jackson’s breath evened out before Finn returned.
“He asleep?” Master Finn asked as he returned and started to wipe Michael down with a warm cloth.
“I think he was asleep before you even pulled out,” Michael half-joked.
“He did seem tired when he got here. He needs the rest.”
“But we’re going to talk to him, right? About what we discussed?”
“Yes, baby, we’ll talk to him.”
Michael received a gentle kiss before Daddy Finn began to clean up Jackson. That was who Finn was now. His Daddy. Michael snuggled down and laid his head against Jackson’s chest as Daddy Finn moved the blanket from the back of the couch and covered them.
“Thanks, Daddy,” Michael said with his thumb already heading to his mouth. After sex, Michael needed the connection to his partner and he knew that his Daddy would stay with him until Michael was asleep. He was safe and nothing could get to him right there. Not with his two men guarding him so well.
Chapter Four
Jackson
His new toy was a thing of beauty and Jackson was pretty proud of himself for coming up with a plan and following through. He attached the two saddlebags to the sides of his brand-new Harley before he gave the seat a pat.
The motel room was cleared out and he’d dropped his spare items at Lance’s house even though his friend hadn’t known he’d been there. He’d left a note though. It wasn’t like he was being totally irresponsible. If Lance had a job for him, Jackson would be able to check his messages. The camp site he was headed to wasn’t totally off the grid although he’d been tempted to find one that was.
There was nothing else to keep him in town and Jackson needed to get out. His time there was over, and until he knew where he was headed, he would do a little camping. He’d stayed in worse places. His father had moved him around so much as a child that a camping site was one of the better memories Jackson had.
He hadn’t had to worry about police coming and taking his father away where he’d end up in another foster or group home. Jackson was twelve when he figured out he needed to hide when the authorities came for his father. His father always got out and knew how to find Jackson. Being on his own was better than anywhere else Jackson had ever found himself.
Nothing wrong with being self-sufficient. At least that’s what he’d been telling himself since he was a scared little kid watching his father being dragged off by the cops as he’d hid in a closet. The police hadn’t even looked for a kid, but Jackson didn’t blame them. Who would have left a young child with his father? Only a meth-addicted mother who didn’t remember she had a child.
No, he was better off on his own.
All his friends were settling down with the loves of their lives.
Jackson was the odd one out.
It was hard leaving Michael and Finn behind, but Jackson could read the writing on the wall. He’d been dozing when Michael had asked Finn if they would be talking to him. Jackson hadn’t stuck around for that conversation. With Michael sandwiched between him and Finn, they’d all eventually slept, but Jackson had been awake and out the door before the sun had come up.
