Their Bounty (Four Mercenaries 1)

“Once we’re back home, I want to finish myself off while you watch and talk to me.”

Clover bit his lip, his pale hair framing the face of the sweetest kind of predator. “That can be arranged. I could even be riding Pyro’s dick as I do that. Multi-tasking, babe.”

Boar’s balls erupted, and he let out a broken groan, keeping his eyes open by force when that image rolled through his brain, burning away any other sexual fantasy, because they were now obsolete. “Oh, fuck. Yes. He’ll fuck you, and you’ll be telling me all about how it feels.”

Clover didn’t even answer that one, just smiled at Boar and leaned down to kiss him as the last of Boar’s orgasm rolled through his body.

Boar would do anything to keep Clover safe. Anything.

*

The peace Boar had felt after the sex didn’t last long. Ants were back to crawling up his spine by the time he left Clover with the others, and once he ditched his vehicle in the bushes and hiked the last of the way to the old factory, the stress of what they were about to do took hold of him once more. The bright sun laughed into his face as he approached the deserted area and slid in, listening for voices in case it served as a secret teenager haunt/drug den. Graffiti and trash suggested that locals hadn’t completely forgotten about this place, but it was so far from the nearest homes that one might think the old building, with its empty windows and torn cables, was the testament of a long-lost civilization.

Birds sung in nearby trees, and the grass and wildflowers that invaded the area around the large structure were fit for a picnic, but Boar couldn’t allow himself to be spotted, and entered the open doorway. The vast main room still housed some of poultry-processing machinery that had likely been too broken or old to move to another facility, but the scent of dust hung over the entire structure.

Boar took his time assessing which place would provide the best view of the front of the building while offering maximum shelter, and in the end climbed the unsteady stairs all the way to the top floor where a couple of pieces of office furniture piled up by one of the windows would keep him hidden from sight.

Nerves were getting the best of him, so he tried to focus on the task at hand and prepared his rifle, laid out the balaclava, which would obscure the pallor of his face in the shadow, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Even forever couldn’t be this long, yet time stretched into eternity when he thought of what could happen to Clover if they failed. He could be taken and never found. Mistreated, tortured, raped, murdered, his sweet smile gone forever. They had the tracker implanted in him, but it would only get them so far, since someone would eventually notice a raised wound in on Clover’s back and investigate.

Boar’s phone burned in his pocket when he thought about calling the whole thing off. Wasn’t it too risky? What were they thinking? But on the other hand, if Clover chose to take that risk, who was he to argue?

They were his partners, not masters.

His skin crawled when engines roared down the narrow road, and he put the Bluetooth headset in his ear. It crackled as soon as he switched it on, and when Tank’s pickup emerged from between the trees, he heard Pyro’s voice in his ear.

“What’s for lunch?”

It was their code to confirm the identity of the person speaking, and Boar relaxed, following the two vehicles through the scope on his rifle. “Caviar in white wine sauce.”

Drake’s van was right behind them, and Boar’s pulse quickened when he thought of Clover tied up in the back. This time, not for Drake’s pleasure, but under the pretense of being their captive.

Boar hated every second of it and couldn’t wait to use his rifle to get the whole thing over with. Fuck knew what the buyer wanted an albino boy for, but Boar’s stomach twisted at the images his brain provided. Clover wasn’t a lump of flesh. He was a man with hopes, dreams, ideas, with a sense of humor, and enough heart to love more than one man at once.

“How’s it looking?” Tank asked next, the voice getting clearer as the vehicles passed through the open gate someone blocked in that position with large stones.

“Haven’t seen a soul. We’re clear.”

“The haggling must have convinced them we’re serious,” Drake added.

Both cars parked in front of the abandoned factory, and that was Boar’s cue to anticipate foul play. He kind of hoped the buyer’s men would play dirty. Getting rid of those fuckers would be the highlight of his day.

Pyro ran beyond the borders of the fence surrounding the factory with the gym bag where he kept his explosives on the go. There were large potholes in the low-quality asphalt, so he had no issue covering the bombs with sand and leaves once they were in place. Once he was done, he hooked up, clearly seeking Boar with his gaze. Boar couldn’t let him know where he was, but a glint far off along the road turned his attention back to the job at hand.