Racing the Moon (17 page)

"Oh, fuck. Fuck, Sunshine." MJ groaned, sobbed, hips bumping against him as they rolled.

"I want...goddamn it, MJ, find the fucking lube. I want you in me." He'd wanted ever since they'd stopped the fucking car in the middle of a fucking cow pasture.

"Fuck. Fuck." MJ rolled over, tearing into a shaving kit with a rumble. "Oh. Oh, here."

"Now. Now." All Sonny could do was pull down on his balls, pressing the base of his cock so he could wait. Otherwise he was just gonna blow too soon. "Can't wait."

MJ slicked that pretty cock, then two fingers. "I won't hurt you, but fuck. Fuck, I want."

Those fingers pressed deep, stretching him straight away.

"S'okay, Precious." Gasping, he arched up, body begging, opening for MJ like a practiced whore. "S'okay. Come on."

"So fucking fine." MJ lined up, sliding into him like it was meant to be. "My Sunshine. Oh, fuck."

"Yours." No way he could deny it. Especially not with MJ in him with no rubber on, something he hadn't even thought of until he felt MJ's flesh inside him, hot as fire.

MJ's lips landed on his, the kiss stealing his breath, holding his eyes. God, this was bigger than fucking. Bigger than either one of them, really, which sent his head just rabbiting along with his heart, his hips snapping, taking MJ all the way in. Over and over.

"Yeah. Yeah, Sonny. Mine. Yours. So good." MJ murmured and whispered, lips moving against his.

"Come on, Precious. Come on." Sonny's hands clutched at MJ's back, scrabbling at him, pulling at him. MJ's fingers wrapped around his prick, started tugging in time, pulling just right.

"Fuck!" His whole body arched, his toes curling in the sheets as he shot, body clamping down hard on MJ's cock. MJ's eyes went wide, almost comically shocked as heat pumped into him, MJ's hips jerking gracelessly.

Sonny watched, stroking MJ's belly, panting as he started to come down, started to feel MJ's heat and wet inside him. Oh, that was gonna leave a hell of a spot on the honeymoon suite bed.

"Mmm..." MJ sighed, leaning down against him. "Hey."

"Hey." Grinning, Sonny stroked MJ's back, feeling worlds better, just from that. "Feeling okay? Not sore?"

"Feeling boneless." MJ took a kiss, then another and another.

"Good. Me too. A little wet..." Sonny chuckled, bit a little.

"A little?" That hum vibrated his lips.

"Uh-huh. Kinda swampy. We should bathe." And eat some more and fuck some more...

"Bathing is good. I'm a fan."

"I know. Come on, Precious." Sonny got up, pulling MJ with him, feeling less than fresh. He grinned. "We made a mess."

"Yeah. We're good at that." MJ pushed and shoved a little, getting him in the bathroom. "Need to soap you up."

"Mmm. Soap. Your hands. No bad there." God, he was feeling good. Loose and lazy and just not at all concerned that he was in a hotel in Green Whatever, Wyoming. Bizarre.

"Not even a little." MJ started the water, the steam filling the air, just like that.

Grinning, Sonny grabbed the soap, getting a leg up on MJ with the lather. They still had a long drive ahead of them. But the way they'd gone after each other, they were in better shape to make it now.

They might even make it to that boat in the Bahamas yet.

***

If it hadn't been for the full moon, he'd never have seen the man, the gun.

The light caught on the barrel and he clamped his hand over Sonny's mouth as he shoved them both over the side of the bed, blessing the motel gods that put the heaters by the curtains.

"Shooter at the window, man. Easy."

Sonny had gone full-on battle ready, and he didn't relax, but he did nod against MJ's hand, signaling that he understood. They stayed low, both of them moving to try to see, but not brushing against each other. Not making noise.

There were two. One at the door, one at the window. They wouldn't dare kill him here. It'd be too fucking noisy. They'd want to take him.

Fuckers.

Sonny tapped his shoulder and motioned, tipping him off that the man was gonna be on the move, and then heading for their bag, which was over by the bathroom.

And was where all the hardware was.

The only advantage they had, hopefully, was that their eyes didn't have to adjust from the bright parking lot to the dark room.

He moved toward the door, keeping the knob in sight. He could hear them jiggling it, working the lock open. His fingers found Sonny's jeans, found the two lighters in the front pocket. MJ broke one open, blowing the lighter fluid under the edge of the cheap-assed door.

Sonny moved into position behind him, the bag strapped to his back, heavy pistol in his hand.

He held up the lighter, scooted back a bit as the lock clicked. One.

The doorknob turned.

Two.

As the door swung open the he tossed the lighter, protecting his eyes against the little flash-bang.

The guy at the door screamed, the flare catching him right at the legs. The window shattered as the guy there went down under Sonny's fire, Sonny's free hand on the back of his neck to keep him down.

The fire went out quick and so did the screaming as he stood and took the man's windpipe out with an elbow, the crunch satisfying as fuck.

It was over almost before it began. The guy went down, the other one making wet gurgling noises as Sonny went and shifted through the guy's pockets, snatching up wallet and gun and ammunition. Then Sonny popped up in front of him, snagging his sleeve.

"Time to go, Precious."

"No shit." He nodded, grabbed his shoes and a set of keys, moving and running before the cops showed.

Before the adrenaline rush faded.

Sonny took all of two minutes to get dressed, and then he was in the car, revving it up, bouncing as he waited. As soon as MJ's ass touched the seat Sonny roared out, tossing a pistol in his lap along with a bunch of crap from the shooter's pockets.

He checked the clip, chambered a round. "Not police issue. Fucking silencers."

Which was sort of cool. They needed some.

"South or east, Precious?" They'd been choosing daily, just sort of like tossing a dart at a map.

"East." These weren't cops. They'd had fake IDs, big cash money, cell phones. "How the
fuck
did they find us?"

"I don't know, MJ. When was the last time you logged on? Not Idaho, was it?" Sonny spun out on a curve, slipping right past the interstate, opting for the state highway. Kansas. Right. They were somewhere in Kansas, slipping down through Wyoming and Colorado yesterday.

"The day after. When I got my money." How did they do it? Fuck him.

"Fuck. Fuckity fuck. Okay, from here on out we do radio silence, yeah?" They didn't have any pursuit. Yet. But the cops would be out. He breathed a sigh of relief when Sonny slowed to the speed limit and cruised just under.

"Yeah." He started sifting through the stuff, loading another pistol for Sonny, putting the cash in the little hidden pouch they'd made. "There's two cell phones here. I'll see if anyone calls them."

"Okay. The IDs were fake, you said? So that's not gonna help us figure out where they were from." Always thinking, his Sonny.

"There's no credit cards, no pictures." He looked at the car keys. "Pickup truck. Not a rental, so they were local."

"No shit? They have local talent in Kansas. Who fucking knew?" Sonny grinned over, white teeth flashing in the semi-dark of the car. "Lord, lord, you're popular, Precious."

"Yeah, it appears so." Man, he needed to get his shit together, get off the road. "We might talk about splitting up."

"No!" Loud, forceful, Sonny growled it out. "You've got your money. We just need to get my shit settled and we can take a nice, long vacation."

"They aren't looking for you, Sunshine. Man, you know what kind of a boat we can get?"

"No. You'll have to tell me. If it's not a bass boat, it's beyond me." Sonny laughed. "And I don't care who they're looking for, I am not letting you out of my fucking sight again."

"You swear?" He didn't like this. Didn't like it at all, being hunted.

"Cross my heart, Precious. Mine. You hear?" Oh, that was a pretty redneck sound, that little drawl, but MJ kinda liked it.

"I do." He nodded, reached over and touched Sonny's shoulder. "I hear you. Let's find somewhere to burn this ID. I don't want to be caught with it."

"Okay. And I need to look at the fucking map. And eat. Wake me up out of a sound sleep to try and shoot at me...Jesus."

"Rude assholes. I want bacon." He looked up at the moon, said a little prayer of thanks. Shit, if it hadn't been for that...

Damn.

"Me, too. And maybe waffles. Mmm. We could get little syrup packets to go. I could get you very messy." Sonny reached up to grab his hand, clinging a little too tight.

"Yeah? We haven't been able to play." He held right back. Shit, his heart was pounding.

"I know. I say we push through. If we drive straight it will take us...maybe twenty-eight hours to hit North Carolina. That way we have no stops and we'll be harder to find. We can sleep in shifts in the car. Then we can be out of the country in forty-eight." Sonny glanced over. "What do you say?"

He nodded. "Works for me. Let's get your shit taken care of and disappear."

Together.

Chapter Sixteen

They were in Tennessee. So close that Sonny could feel it, and damn it felt good to have this almost done.

MJ looked hollow-eyed and pooped, just like Sonny felt. Goddamn, he was ready to be done. Seveirville, Canton, and then Asheville, where they'd meet up with Woody, who would have
his
money, and the supplies they'd need to get to Florida.

Good old Woody.

"Hey, you okay, Precious?" The road was pretty dark, the trees like a tunnel and the curves tight. He didn't want MJ freaking out on him.

"No, but I'm coping." MJ kept looking behind them, nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room of rockers.

"We're almost there, man. We're almost there." They'd change out cars, pick up Sonny's Starfire. They could sleep for a bit, eat, and then head out. The bolt-hole he and Woody kept would be safe enough.

"Yeah. Then we head to the coast. Buy a boat."

"Yeah. Just laze around a bit." He patted MJ's leg, casting around for something to keep him awake. Fuck, his bullet wound was itching. "What does MJ stand for?"

"Manning Jameson. It's a family name." MJ's nose wrinkled, eyes just rolling. "My dad's James."

"Well, there you go." Lord, he'd bet MJ's folks had money. "I'm a Junior. That's why I'm a Sonny."

"What's your full name?" MJ looked over, scooted closer.

"Robert Adam." He'd much rather be a Sonny than a Bobby Junior. "I like Sonny just fine, thanks."

Mmm. MJ was warm.

"You don't look like a Robert anymore than I look like a Manning." MJ hummed, hand moving along his back, petting.

"Exactly." Oh, good. "'M'all stiff. We got any Twinkies left?"

"Nope. Ding Dong or cherry pie?"

"Ding Dong." The pie would just be messy as hell. Besides, those were better when they had time to lick and suck a little. The chocolate would be instant energy.

MJ stretched over, dug in the bags of odds and ends they'd collected, and came up with a Ding Dong, just grinning from ear to ear.

"Don't you eat both of them, you. I know your addiction, now." God, he was so close. So close to relaxing.

"Me?" MJ opened one, tore a piece of cupcake off and offered it to him, held in those square fingers.

Sonny grinned before nipping it right out, chewing a little before licking MJ's fingers clean. "You. I tell you, Precious, I've never seen anyone hoard chocolate cakes like you."

It was one of the many things he fucking loved about the man.

Sonny swerved a little, just keeping it on his side of the road. Loved. Whoa.

MJ chuckled, took a bite of his own, eyes on him. "Chocolate is a gift from the gods."

"It is." Sonny licked his lips, his mouth dry as a bone. "Water?"

"Okay." A bottle was dug out, handed over to him, damp and cool and slick in his hand. "You're okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good, Precious. Just...I just. Well. Thinking bad, water good." He grinned, trying to make light. Lord love a duck.

"No thinking. We got your stuff and then we go and make ourselves something." MJ stilled, tilted his head. "Something just ours."

"I was just thinking that. See why I kinda freaked out?" Laughing, he snatched the rest of the Ding Dong. "We're a pair, aren't we?"

"Greedy." MJ's laugh sounded fucking good; the way the man tugged his hand over to suck it clean was even better.

"Pure D selfish." Hoo yeah. Canton was close. He could smell the Bowater. Damned paper mills smelled like nothing else. "We're in North Carolina, Precious. Give me another forty minutes and we can get a room and fuck like bunnies."

"Works for me." MJ's hand slipped down, teased his ass. "Peter Cottontail."

"Don't make me start calling you Bugs." Sonny wiggled. "So, how do you feel about grits?"

"I don't like them as much as polenta, but they're better than oatmeal."

"Polenta. How very California of you." They'd have to explore cheese grits with bacon drippings. He'd bet he could bring MJ around. "And fried chicken? I know how you feel about the weird bananas."

"I grew up in Santa Barbara, man. You know - tofu dogs? Fish tacos? Peanut chicken pizza?"

"Peanut chicken...that's just wrong." A deer jumped out in front of them, but not close enough to hit, flashing off into the woods after giving them a glowing stare. "Pizza should have meat. Maybe veggies."

"Chicken is meat." He got another bite of chocolate and creamy middle.

"No, I mean sausage meat," he said with his mouth full. "And don't tell me peanuts are vegetables. I mean mushrooms and maybe onions."

"Oooh. Sausage and mushrooms. Yum." See? He knew the man had some sense.

They kept up the food and the chatter all the way into Asheville, where Sonny turned off on a back road, heading up toward his little bolt-hole cabin, which was a hell of a lot nicer than the one he and MJ had met in.