For as long as Boyd can remember, he's been pushing pins into a map. Carson City, Las Vegas, Albuquerque -- all places he wants to see, for a dozen different reasons that wouldn't mean a thing to anyone else. When he finally gets a chance to purchase the '70 Plymouth Duster of his dreams, at a price that even he can manage, Boyd jumps at the opportunity.<br><br>Oliver seems like just another kid with a broken dream when their paths cross in Vegas. Against Boyd's better judgment, he offers to let Oliver hitch along for the ride when Oliver confides the need to get out and get gone.<br><br>But isn’t long before Boyd realizes Oliver's reasons for running are more complicated -- and more dangerous -- than Oliver let on. Boyd doesn't like people who play hardball, and he definitely doesn't like people messing with a man who's managed to light a fuse that Boyd forgot he had.

Road Trip

“Fuck,” Boyd groaned, his eyes traveling from windshield to the back of Oliver’s head, head to windshield, back, again. A drop of spit began a slow run from the base of his shaft, alongside his tightening balls, and Boyd felt every bit of its leisurely journey as though it had a tongue of its own. Something twisted in Boyd’s guts, something that said it had either been way too long since someone had done this, or that Oliver was blessedly good at what he was he doing.


“Okay,” Boyd huffed. “Now you do have to stop.” There was a rasp of panic in his voice and his rationality told him panic was not the appropriate emotion for the moment. Yet that was exactly what hit him. Panic, disturbance, and underneath it all a growing need that was creeping on him so insistently and so overwhelmingly it was like watching a tsunami approach shore in slow motion.


Chapter 21