Wrong Way Home - Taken (Criminal Delights 1)

It was a peaceful life, one that eliminated all the background noise in favor of work that made him feel useful and deserving of time off in the afternoon. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d allowed himself to let go so completely, but once work was done for the day, he and Taron did whatever they liked—reading, going for walks, or fucking—all with the comfort of not having to worry about not doing enough.

But while Colin enjoyed the easy silence, the books, and the time outdoors, one thing stood out more.

He and Taron worked very well together, and perhaps, had they met in different circumstances, Colin might have reconsidered his no-boyfriend policy.

Unlike most guys Colin had met hooking up, Taron had drive, a goal, and wasn’t a self-absorbed douchebag always on the chase for the next shiny fling. He was a hard worker, had real-life skills, and his patient, steady demeanor never failed to endear him to Colin. But the other side of him, the one that emerged when their eyes met, causing sparks, had Colin throwing all rules out the window.

In his real life, he had never considered skipping condoms with anyone. It seemed like such a reckless thing to do, but in the deep woods, in the log cabin that smelled of char and herbs, STDs didn’t seem as real. He longed for the raw heat of Taron’s hands, for the scent of his cum, and for the passion glinting in his green gaze. If any other man had tried to mark him with hickeys, Colin wouldn’t have allowed it, but Taron could leave as many bite marks as he wanted, and Colin relished in seeing them in the mirror every day.

No one would see them anyway, because since Tom McGraw had visited, they’d been undisturbed. Colin didn’t even know how far off they were from civilization, because that first night was one big blur of horror. But that was all in the past, for Colin had other things to worry about.

The bright spring days came to an abrupt end. The weather went downhill fast, and the usual rustle of leaves whispering in the breeze was replaced by howling wind. Since Colin only had a few items of clothing, Taron offered him his own windbreaker, and the way the garment hung off Colin’s form served as a reminder of just how much bigger Taron was. The sheer width of Taron’s back, the strength of his arms were an aphrodisiac to Colin, and even now, covering the vegetable plot with tarp in the vicious rain, his mind briefly wandered to their morning cuddle.

The distant sound of thunder echoed across the sky as soon as Colin managed to attach the waxed cloth, and when Colin stood, assaulted by cold droplets hitting his unprotected face, he was ready to head back to the cabin and have a drink of warm cocoa.

He was surprised to see that Taron was still on the porch in this unholy weather. He had the radio in hand and communicated with someone by Morse code. It wasn’t the first time Colin had seen him do this, since Taron did keep in touch with a network of gay men, who also lived off the grid. Colin wanted to call out to him when a piece of rope snapped, uncovering the patch of strawberries and tossing the loosened flap of the tarp at Colin.

Taron abandoned the radio and ran into the rain to help. Once they reattached the covering, Colin withstood the icy blow that pushed him toward the covered patches, and smiled at Taron from behind goggles that protected his eyes from sand and debris.

“Thank you,” he shouted to be heard through the noise, even though they stood so close.

Taron just shook his head and, in the daddiest of dad moves, zipped Colin’s jacket all the way up. Colin knew he should’ve scolded him, but the gesture was so endearing that he scrambled to his toes and gave him a kiss instead.

For the briefest moment, Colin stilled, entranced by the warmth of his partner’s mouth, but the sudden crackling of the radio lured Taron back to the porch. A familiar voice, though distorted, called out from the speaker.

“It’s really bad over here. You might have to deal with a supercell very soon, maybe a tornado. Stay put.”

There was no use screaming into the receiver about being kidnapped even if Colin had wanted to, because it transmitted voice just one way. Colin had found out about it when Taron had been unbothered about Colin speaking to him when he’d communicated over the radio before.

Taron asked as soon as he tapped one of the radio buttons to finish the conversation.