Manipulate (Deliver 6)

The seam of his full lips hid a tongue that could make Martin shoot his load in under ten seconds, and his nude body exuded all the grace, strength, and chiseled perfection of a demigod.

No one could pull off the freshly fucked look like Ricardo Saldivar. Martin had worked him into a hard-earned orgasm only an hour earlier, hoping to fuck them both to sleep.

At least Ricky had found a moment of solace.

But he was awake now, given the irregular pace of his breaths.

Martin shifted closer, touching their foreheads together.

“I miss her.” Ricky opened his eyes, locking onto Martin’s.

“Yeah.” A clamp of renewed anger constricted his chest. “We promised her we’d get her out.”

Loving a woman they couldn’t see or touch or protect… It was such a goddamn helpless feeling. But breaking a promise to her felt even worse.

“She’s fierce as hell.” Ricky gripped Martin’s neck. “You know as well as I do, she’s the reason Jaulaso went up in flames.”

“I’m going to redden her fucking ass for it.”

Ricky glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was two in the morning, but he didn’t need to ask Martin why he was awake. They hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since they left her in that hell.

“You know what I miss?” Ricky connected their mouths in a languorous kiss, sweeping his tongue and igniting the heat that burned between them. “I miss her soft hands and lips.”

“I miss her sexy little tits.” He licked a path down Ricky’s throat, nipped at the flex of pecs, and swirled his tongue around Ricky’s nipple.

With a shameless moan, Ricky gripped Martin’s swelling erection, rubbing in slow teasing strokes. “And the sound of her husky voice when she wants to fuck.”

“Especially when she’s quoting her favorite books.” Warmth spread through his body as he rocked into Ricky’s tight fist. “Her nerdy, schoolteacher thing really does it for me.”

“Yeah?” Shifting closer, Ricky pumped his hand and stole hungry kisses. “Her smile does it for me. The sweetness in it, the breathy sounds she makes, the wet grip of her pussy…”

Martin captured Ricky’s thick cock and touched the hard length the way he used to touch himself. Fast and aggressive, firm and desperate, he jacked Ricky off until their kissing and stroking turned feral.

“Fuck, I miss her tight little cunt.” Kicking his hips, Ricky thrust faster into Martin’s fist.

“My hand’s not as good as her pussy?”

“No.” Ricky groaned through a laugh. “But it gets the job done. Really fucking well. Don’t stop.”

He didn’t stop until he took Ricky’s cock into his mouth. He sucked ravenously until Ricky undulated and moaned through a body-shaking orgasm. Then he lubed up, flipped Ricky over, and rode Ricky’s hot ass into a slow, grinding climax.

They should’ve been able to sleep after that, but they couldn’t. She was a sadness they shared, a pain that laded their thoughts and kept them on edge.

Stretched out on the bed, face to face, they sank into the intimacy of their eye contact.

Martin traced a finger along the carved terrain of Ricky’s abs, marveling at the ease in which he could touch his best friend. He’d been so fucking scared he would hurt Ricky irreparably that he’d denied them this pleasure for seven years.

He should’ve known Ricky had the physical and emotional strength to handle Martin’s pain, even when Martin couldn’t.

“I love you.” He rested a hand on Ricky’s face, roaming his thumb along that strong jawline.

“You, too.”

They stayed that way for hours, drifting in and out of sleep.

Sometime before dawn, Martin’s phone rang on the side table.

His heart rate tripled as he reached for it. But Ricky beat him to it, lunging across his chest and putting the call on speaker.

Martin didn’t have to look at the screen to know the call was from Cole Hartman. His knuckles were white from clenching his fists, and his entire body froze in anticipation.

“You better have good news for us.” Ricky set the phone on the bed and rubbed his palms on his thighs, his expression taut.

“She’s alive,” Cole said. “But she’s not in Jaulaso.”

All the air in the room evaporated. Martin couldn’t catch his breath.

“What the fuck?” Ricky jumped off the bed and dragged his hands through his hair. “Where is she?”

“She transferred to a federal prison in the U.S. the day Hector was murdered. That took planning.” Cole let that settle in before he asked, “Can you catch a flight to Phoenix, Arizona?”

“Holy fuck.” Martin exchanged a startled look with Ricky. “She’s in Arizona?”

“Yes. During her transfer hearing, the U.S. Parole Commission reduced her sentence. She’s getting released next week, and I’m not the only one who knows this. Someone put out a contract hit on her life.”“Petula Gomez.” The female corrections officer waved her through the final checkpoint. “You’re clear to go.”

Tula shoved her hands in the front pockets of her jeans and swallowed around a knot of conflicting emotions. Uncertainty and exaltation, terrible fear and utter joy—all of it burned the backs of her eyes as she pushed through the exterior door.