Mission: Jaws of the Jaguar

Mission: Jaws of the Jaguar, Chapter Fourteen

Mission: Jaws of the Jaguar Chapter FourteenBonding Connor found that he couldn't stop thinking about Daniel Ballard. He looked for him in the hotel restaurant at lunch, and supper, and in the bar later, but he never appeared.

Probably sleeping, he told himself. He'd complained about how tired he was. Connor hoped that was all it was. He hadn't liked that last look that Andrew Yarborough had given him as he'd marched Daniel to the elevator.


Galbraith met a perfectly nice, perfectly willing German tourist in the hotel bar... and didn't do anything about it. He drank a while with the man, then bid him goodnight, and left him obviously bewildered.


He lay awake for a long lime, staring up at the ceiling, trying to work out exactly where Daniel's room was in relation to his own. He fantasized that it was above his own. That right then, Daniel was lying under cool sheets, directly above him.


He imagined that long body in a graceful sprawl, brown hair tumbling over his forehead. When he imagined the hazel eyes opening, warm and liquid instead of fearful, as he'd last seen them, he started to masturbate.


In his mind he stood over the man who stretched out on the bed, and reached to touch him. Daniel arched to his hand like a cat seeking caresses. He purred with pleasure as Connor stroked and kissed every inch of his body.


It ended too quickly. Connor was just picturing that lush mouth descending on his needy cock when his orgasm hit him unexpectedly. He cried out in mingled relief and frustration as he spilled his seed. Relief, because it was always good, frustration because he hadn't gotten any farther in his fantasy.


But it was a little easier to sleep after that, because he had determined that it wasn't going to remain a fantasy forever. He was going to have that man.


He went to the restaurant the next morning, hoping that Daniouldould be there. He was, but Yarborough was sitting with him. Connor chose a table at Yarborough's back, so he could observe without being observed.


There was the remains of a huge breakfast before the older man. He'd obviously had a good appetite. Connor, seeing that Daniel looked a little haggard, wondered sourly what he had done to work up that appetite.


Connor ate slowly, and his fondest wish was granted when Andrew signed the check and prepared to leave. He spoke to Daniel, who nodded listlessly, then he left. Connor waited till he was well away, then got up and went over to Daniel's table.


Daniel was poking dispiritedly at the poached egg on his plate. He really couldn't manage anything harder than that this morning. His throat was very sore. He'd spit up a little blood last night. Andrew must have torn something in his throat again. He had gargled carefully with an antiseptic mouthwash, and it had stung dreadfully, but he supposed that meant it was healing.


When he noticed from the corner of his eye that someone was approaching, he prepared himself for another round of instructions and warnings from Andrew. Instead a soft, Irish tinted voice said, "Good morning, Daniel."


He looked up to find Connor Galbraith standing beside him, and felt an odd flutter in his stomach when he saw the warm expression in the other man's eyes. He found himself smiling, despite his discomfort. "Good morning."


"May I join you?"


Daniel glanced nervously toward the restaurant exit. Well, it should be safe enough. Andrew was going into the city to conduct business. He never dwaddled when he was on his way to a meeting, he would be out of the hotel by now. "Please."


The waiter came over to see what Connor would have, and he ordered coffee. Daniel asked for tea tea with honey and lemon. Connor cocked his head. "Is it for your throat? I'm thinkin' you sound a bit hoarse."


"Yes." Daniel said shortly.


"Ah." Connor didn't ask for an explanation, and didn't elaborate on his comment, and Daniel was grateful on both counts.


Connor sipped his coffee, watching as his companion chewed up a bit of egg and swallowed with obvious discomfort. There were no visible marks on Daniel's throat, so Connor could imagine what Yarborough had done to get him in this state. He wished that he could get his hands around the bastard's neck.


Daniel gave up on his breakfast and sipped his tea instead. The hot, sweet brew soothed his raw throat, and he sighed with relief. When he saw Connor watching him, he shrugged. "I should be better by lunch. I usually am." The thought that this happened often enough for him to have a routine to deal with it made Connor's hand tighten dangerously on the thin china cup. For Daniel's sake, Connor did not comment on that, but said,


"Did you sleep well last night?"


Another shrug. "I slept. I'm a little better rested now, even if I do look like death on a cracker."


Connor laughed. "Nothin' of the sort. You look fine. I'm thinkin' it would be hard for you to look bad."


Daniel gazed into his tea cup, smiling almost shyly, "Yeah, well, you wouldn't say that if you saw me first thing in the morning, fresh out of bed."


Connor's voice was suddenly serious, "I'd like that." Daniel's eyes flashed up at him, his smile faltering just a little. No, that wasn't quite the look, Connor thought. It was a good look, a bit startled, and pleased, but it wasn't what he wanted. "Will you spend the day with me?"


Daniel put his cup down slowly. "Andrew most likely has eyes here. He's generous enough when it involves keeping tabsme."me." He dabbed at his mouth with a linen napkin, and Connor wet his own lips, watching. Daniel saw, and paused with the cloth just touching his mouth. The two men stared into each other's eyes silently, neither one willing to look away. Finally Daniel dropped the napkin and stood up. "I enjoyed your company."


He turned away, and hesitated. Not looking at Connor, he said in a low voice, "You know, it looks like rain, but I don't think I'll be able to resist going out to the beach in a little while." He walked away without looking back.


Connor followed the subtle sway of his hips as he left the room. He sat there for a while longer, coffee cooling unheeded. Then he went back to his room to change into his swimsuit.


The beach was a small jewel, several hundred yards of golden sand lapped by azure waters. Post card perfect. All that was missing was a brilliant sunset with two lover's silhouetted against it, and there would probably be that, later in the evening.


If the weather cleared up. Right now, the sky was a sullen iron gray, clouds roiling close to the ground. The `whispering winds' were working their way up toward a shout. As Connor exited the hotel, there was a rumble of thunder right overhead, and the first flash of lightening. Fat raindrops started to pelt down, striking hard enough to kick up tiny puffs of sand on impact.


The few guests who had been out on the beach made a dash for shelter. They filed past Connor, muttering disgustedly, some of them shaking off water like dogs. Connor stood under the small awning at the exit, the rain blowing in to spray his bare legs, and surveyed the beach.


It was deserted, and Daniel hadn't come past him. Then he noticed the tent. It was an open fronted canvas structure, facing the waves, just up past high tide level. Here the more sun sensitive tourists could enjoy the ocean without worrying about sunburn. Connor regarded it thoughtfully. In this weather, that would be the perfect place for a meeting, if one did not want to be observed. Who would expect anyone to be out in this weather?


Of course, he could be wrong. Daniel might be in his room, regretting the unspoken invitation. But somehow Connor didn't think so. In any case, the rain was warm, and he was already wearing his trunks. What did a bit of wet matter? Especially if there might be a man like Daniel waiting for him out there?


Connor checked behind him, but there was no one near the entrance to observe him. He ducked his head, and darted out into the storm. The thunder boomed again, and the dimness of the day brightened briefly with a lightening flash. Connor was drenched in seconds, but it wasn't unpleasant. It was almost like a tepid shower; refreshing.


He made his way toward the tent at a steady trot. As he approached, he felt his heart speed up, and realized how badly he wanted Daniel to be there. He was going to feel like a fool if it was empty. Or worse, was sheltering someone else.


He came around the side of the tent, and stopped at the entrance, looking inside, trying not to let his anxiety show. Daniel, seated cross legged in the center of the tent, looked up at him, and smiled.


Connor just stood there, looking at him. He was wearing a pair of brief dark trunks that accentuated the pale perfection of his skin. Galbraith knew he had been obviously staring when Daniel laughed softly and said, "Well, don't you have enough sense to come in out of the rain?"


Ethan stepped in the shelter, grinning. "I dunno. Me Ma seemed to think so."


Daniel arched an eyebrow. "Yes, but she would be a bit prejudiced."


There was a blanket spread almost wall to wall in the little tent, providing a dry and comfortable ground covering. Daniel tapped it. "Sit down, before I get neck strain talking to you."


Connor dropped down beside him. "Nice place you have here."


Daniel shrugged. "The rent is reasonable. The view..." He looked out across the ocean, which was pitching. White caps broke steadily, sending foam far up the shore. It wouldn't quite reach the tent, but it was close enough for a particularly strong wave to now and then send a fine mist into the shelter. The sky was almost purple, and the clouds were laced now and then with silver bursts of lightening, which gilded the underbellies of the clouds. "The view is magnificent."


"You don't mind it raining on your vacation?"


He snorted. "This isn't a vacation. I didn't want to come. Anyway, I like rain


"Me, too. Well, then, I'd better, hadn't I? Bein' from Ireland."


"I hear it's real pretty over there." Daniel sounded a bit wistful. "I wouldn't mind going some day."


"I haven't seen much of the countryside meself, what with livin' in Dublin, but aye. It's a fair land." He paused. "I'd like to show it to you."


Ballard picked at the blanket, looking down at his hands. He didn't really understand what was going on. Oh, he knew that Connor Galbraith found him attractive. He'd made that evident enough. But he had to be aware of Andrew's... attitude. Did it really bother him so little?


And then there was Daniel's own reactions. He'd flirted since almost before his age reached double digits. It usually came easy to him. Why was he feeling so awkward now? Not looking at the Irishman, he said, "I guess I'm glad I came after all."


"I'm very glad you came."


Daniel took a deep breath, and committed himself. He picked up a towel lying by his side and said, "You're goingcatccatch your death if you don't dry off a little." Connor held out his hand for the towel, but Daniel tossed it lightly over his head, grabbed it, and began to tousle his hair vigorously. Connor chuckled, and allowed it.


When he had most of the water out, Daniel removed the cloth and tried to finger comb Connor's damp locks into some sort of order. "What a you you have," he murmured.


"I'll cut it."


"No!" More quietly. "No. I like it."


He began to gently pat Connor's face with the soft terrycloth, pressing it to brow, cheeks, chin. Then he moved down to the other man's throat. He dried Connor's shoulders with short, slow strokes, and moved down to his chest.


Connor sat very still, his eyes alternating between Daniel's hand, and his face. He took hold of Ballard'nd and and removed the towel, dropping it. Then he settled Daniel's fingers on his left nipple, and held them there. His other hand went up and caressed Daniel's cheek, then slid back into his hair to cup the back of his skull. He whispered, "Please, Danny."


Daniel drew a shaky breath, staring into Connor's eyes. Green eyes were supposed to be cool, but his were so warm. He didn't resist as Connor drew him closer, and he closed his eyes as the younger man touched his lips to his mouth.


It was gentle, sweet, and undemanding. Connor's lips moved on his, and Daniel opened his mouth to him. He shuddered as the warm, wet tongue slid in, brng ong over his own. He moved his fingers, stroking Connor's nipple, and was pleased when the other man groaned into his mouth. He brought his other hand up, groping, and soon had teased both nipples into straining peaks.


Galbraith let go of his hand, released his head, and reached over to begin the same exploration. Their hands roamed each other's torsos, stroking and gently pinching, wringing muffled moans of pleasure, while their mouths stayed glued together.


Finally Daniel had to pull back, gasping for breath and light headed. Connor dropped his head to nuzzle at Daniel's neck, nipping him lightly. Daniel tried to speak, "This... this is happening very fast."


Connor chuckled against his skin, making him shiver again. "I can be slow for you, darlin', if that's what ya fancy. I like slow, too."


"You don't know me, Connor." he said miserably. "You don't know what I've done." For some reason Daniel felt compelled to confront this man with the truth. He was aching, knowing that it could very well drive him away. But he'd dealt with so much hypocrisy in his life, and he just couldn't handle it any more.


"I know all I need to know."


"No, listen to me." He grabbed Connors hair and tugged, forcing him to look at him. "I... Andrew keeps me. I've always been kept, ever since I was young. I'm... reallst ast a high class whore."


"Don't say that about yourself." Connor's voice was almost fierceome ome people aren't cut out to make their own way in the world. Alright, so you're one of those. I don't care."


"But I'm Andrew's bitch."


"You're not!" The kiss this time was more forceful, as Connor pulled him into his arms, dragging Daniel onto his lap. He kept kissing him till the other man was breathless. "You're Danny, that's all you are. And that's enough for me."


"Con..." he whispered.


"Oh, aye," Connor purred. "Say my name like that. Say it again, sweet Danny."


"Con." His arms went around Galbraith's neck. And he curled into him, almost childlike, as if seeking warmth, or protection.