Cut and Run 7 - Touch and Geaux

trying to fight the veil of whiskey to see through to the only man he’d thought he would ever love. Without asking for permission, he flipped the box open.
    Inside was a rectangular silver token. A rough anchor had been etched into the face of it. Zane picked it up and dropped the box to the floor. He could feel something on the other side, but his eyes were fixed to the anchor.
    “I had my ring from the cruise ship job melted down for it. It’s a sobriety token.”
    Zane looked up. Ty was sitting on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped, eyes on the floor.
    “You told me one time that . . . I was your compass. I gave you direction when you were lost,” Ty said, nearly choking on the words. He glanced up, eyes reflecting like liquid in the low light. “Well, you were my anchor. You were something solid for me to hold onto. I wanted you to remember that.”
    Zane stared at him for a solid minute, trying to feel something beyond the warmth of the whiskey, beyond the reach of the anger. He had convinced himself the Ty Grady he knew wasn’t the real one.
    But what if it was? What if Zane was the only one who’d seen the real man beneath all those layers?
    He turned the token over in his hand. “I believe in you” was etched on the other side. He balled it in his fist and tossed it at the door with a mournful shout.
    “You son of a bitch!” he shouted, stalking toward Ty. “I trusted you!”
    Ty stood to meet the assault. Zane grabbed him and kissed him brutally, digging his fingers into Ty’s hair, slamming him against the wall beside the bed. A moment later he shoved Ty onto the bed and climbed over him, continuing the kiss in all its angry glory.
    “Zane,” Ty said, breathless. Whether it was from the weight on top of him or the weight of his emotions, Zane didn’t know and didn’t care.
    “Shut up, Ty. Don’t fucking say my name.” He reached between them, taking Ty in hand and squeezing. Ty gasped and closed his eyes. It made it easier for Zane, not being forced to look into Ty’s eyes.
    He filled his palm with lube and stroked himself, using his other hand to tug at Ty’s thigh. He leaned over him, biting at his lip, yanking his leg higher, thrusting his hips, forcing Ty to lift his other leg and let Zane settle on top of him. Ty’s entire body was trembling.
    “For once in your life,” he ground out against Ty’s lips. “Be something honest for once in your life.”
    He pushed the head of his cock against Ty, waiting for the gasp he knew was coming. The gust of air came against his lips, the same one Ty always seemed to let out when Zane first entered him. Zane bit down on Ty’s lip to turn that gasp into one of pain, then shoved harder, breaching, pushing past tight muscles.
    He’d forgotten what it felt like to delve into the warmth of someone else when all he felt was the cold calm of the alcohol and the bite of unchecked anger. God, it was so good.
    He gripped Ty’s hair to hold him still beneath Zane’s weight as he inched in. It was agonizing to go so slowly when all he wanted was to hear Ty cry out for mercy, to fuck him until he could feel nothing but the simplicity of emptying himself deep inside someone else, emptying all the pain and anger into someone who was begging for more.
    He pushed until he was completely sheathed, until Ty was writhing beneath him, trembling against him. Ty’s breath shivered over Zane’s lips.
    “Come on, then, Garrett,” Ty whispered. “You want me to feel used?”
    “Yes,” Zane hissed. “I want you to hurt like I do.”
    “Then do it.”
    Zane smacked his hand over Ty’s mouth. He pulled out and forced himself in again, lingering long enough to appreciate the slow slide of his cock as he delved deep, to feel Ty’s body jerk beneath his. Ty gasped against his hand. His fingernails raked down Zane’s back. Zane reached under Ty’s hips and pulled him off the bed, shoving deeper, forcing Ty to contort.
    Ty called out, the sound muffled by Zane’s hand.
    Zane started up a brutal rhythm, holding Ty down, the only sounds he heard were muffled and incoherent. His hips moved faster, harder, anger and anguish driving him, seeking pleasure that only his body registered and his mind refused to let him feel. He buried his face against Ty’s chest, pushing harder, finally letting his hand fall away from Ty’s mouth so he could lift Ty’s hips higher.
    Ty gasped his name. It was a pleading sound, filled with the same anguish Zane felt in