Preacher let Memphis sleep until they reached the halfway point of their destination, a small town called Willows. Preacher looked for the smallest hotel in the tiny town, determined to pay cash and not show ID if he could avoid it. Even though it seemed highly unlikely anybody in the MC would somehow connect Preacher to Memphis, the hospital did have his name. The same hospital who let a violent man set his son on fire without consequence. There was no way to know who could be on Tennessee’s payroll.
Preacher slipped free of the truck, leaving Memphis sleeping with the boys. The air smelled like menthol and something sickly sweet, but Preacher couldn’t place it. He managed to convince the clerk that he’d forgotten his wallet and asked to pay cash. He wasn’t sure if the small girl behind the counter was bored or intimidated, but she didn’t put up much of a fight over his ID, especially not when he peeled off an extra twenty dollar bill and handed it to her.
He walked back to the truck and gently lifted Memphis’s head to get back inside, but he was already blinking himself awake, slowly sitting up as Preacher turned over the engine once more. “Where are we?”
Preacher drove the short distance to their room so he could park directly outside. “The Blue Gum Motel. We’re still in California for now.” Memphis’s head was on a swivel, looking all around the darkened parking lot, as if danger lurked in every shadow. “We’re safe. Nobody can trace us here. I promise.”
Preacher thought it was a pretty little motel, with a long sweeping drive and tall thin topiary-like trees lining the entrance, but what did he know, really? He hadn’t stayed in a hotel since he was seven and his aunt and uncle had taken him to Disneyland. He unlocked the hotel room door, holding it open for Memphis, before returning for the boys and his bag.
When he came in, Memphis sat on one of the two queen beds, looking uneasy.
“You alright?”
Memphis nodded but said nothing. Christ, he hoped selective mutism wasn’t something the Camden boys were predisposed to. He needed Memphis to talk to him. It was too hard to know what was going on behind those big blue eyes.
Preacher busied himself with closing the heavy blackout curtains and locking the door, sliding the door stop home. He set up the boys’ food and water and then hunkered down in front of Memphis, resting his forearms on the younger man’s thighs. “I know it’s not the nicest place, but it was small and they didn’t ask a lot of questions. The name’s a little weird, but they seem nice and the place is clean.”
“Blue gum is eucalyptus. That’s why it smells like menthol outside,” Memphis said.
“Of course, you’d know that,” Preacher said with a smile, relieved when Memphis smiled back. “Why don’t you go take a shower? I’ll see about finding us some food.”
“I still don’t have any clothes,” Memphis reminded, voice dull.
“Take whatever you need from my bag. I saw a few fast food places on the way in. Will you be okay here with the boys for twenty minutes?” Memphis nodded, and the sadness in his face made Preacher fucking ache for him. “Any special requests?”
“Nope.”
Preacher sighed, standing. “Lock and bolt the door. I’ll knock three times when I’m back so you know it’s me.” He leaned down and dropped a kiss on top of Memphis’s head before he could stop himself. Memphis seemed startled. Preacher would be lying if he said he wasn’t, too. What was it about this sad boy that pulled at Preacher’s insides?
It only took Preacher about seven minutes to get to the McDonald’s drive-thru and another ten to get the food and get back, but he sat in the car for a few minutes to collect himself. Every fiber of his being wanted to touch and hold and kiss Memphis until that haunted look was no longer there, but Memphis was just so…fragile.
When he finally knocked three times, it took a minute for Memphis to get to the door. When he answered, his hair was wet and his feet were bare and he wore one of Preacher’s softest, holiest t-shirts and a pair of athletic shorts that barely clung to his hips, even rolled at the waist. He looked ridiculous…and adorable.
They sat at the small round table and ate their burgers and fries, and then Preacher let Memphis feed the boys the plain hamburgers he’d gotten for them. Preacher turned on the tv. HGTV played in the background, but it was better than the silence. “I’m going to take a shower, too. I’ll be right back.”
Memphis nodded, curling up on the bed closest to the bathroom.
Preacher washed himself quickly, taking time to brush his teeth and towel off. It was only once he’d dried off that he realized he’d left his clothes in his bag in his haste. He wrapped the towel around his hips before opening the bathroom door.
Memphis was on his back half-watching the tv. His eyes went wide at the sight of Preacher in only a towel, and he sat up quickly. Preacher winced, not wanting Memphis to get the wrong idea. “I-I left my clothes.”
He pointed towards the suitcase but made no move to cross the room. Memphis was looking him over, and fuck, if Preacher didn’t like him looking. He rolled off the bed, moving closer to Preacher, his movements hesitant, like he was giving him time to run or say no. When there were only a few inches of space between them, Memphis’s hands fell on Preacher’s chest, his fingers tracing his reaper tattoo before teasing over the tight peaks of his nipples. Preacher let a breath out through his nose, his cock filling just from these few timid touches.
Memphis sat on the corner of the mattress he’d just exited, his hands unknotting Preacher’s towel and letting it fall. He stared at Preacher’s hardening erection for a full minute before dropping tender kisses against his hip bone.
“Fuck,” Preacher said, voice raw.
Something in his tone must have emboldened Memphis. He ran his nose along the dip in Preacher’s hip, burying his face in the nest of hair at his groin. Just the feel of his breath so close to Preacher’s cock had him biting his lip to keep from dragging Memphis’s mouth where he wanted it. He didn’t have to wait long. Memphis slid his soft hand around Preacher’s cock before taking it into his mouth and sucking him into the wet heat.
Preacher’s eyes rolled, growling at the tight pull of Memphis’s lips, the hot cavern of his mouth and the soft slide of his tongue. He tangled his fingers in Memphis’s still damp hair, fighting not to drag him closer, pushing his hard cock deeper. “Yeah, fuck. That’s so good,” he breathed.
Memphis grabbed handfuls of Preacher’s ass, taking him down to the root, throat convulsing deliciously as he gagged, before pulling off and looking up at Preacher with wet eyes. “Sorry,” he muttered, sniffling as he pumped Preacher’s slick cock.
Preacher barked out a surprised laugh. “For what? Choking on my dick? You have a blanket invite to do it as much as you want,” Preacher promised.
Memphis blushed but then gave him a smile, wrapping a hand around Preacher’s cock, using his saliva to jerk him roughly before sucking on the head, his tongue playing with this slit. “Christ,” Preacher whispered.
“I’m a little rusty,” Memphis warned, pulling off again to push Preacher back and sink down to his knees on the motel carpet.
