He began to sweat, his shirt clinging to him as he glanced around. There was a large farmhouse to his left and silos just beyond the barn. The air smelled like cow dung, and Wilbur gagged, plugging his nose. A variety of farm equipment lay scattered about. He stiffened when a few dogs came running from behind the house, barking.

"I'm afraid of dogs," he said to Stripper. "Do they bite?"

"I have no idea," Stripper replied. "Why don't you try and pet one?"

Wilbur narrowed his eyes. "You're not a very nice man." Which was a contradiction to how Stripper had acted earlier. The guy was Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. One minute he was lethal and intimidating, the next he was nice and polite. Wilbur was getting a migraine trying to deal with Stripper's multiple personalities.

Wilbur nearly swallowed his tongue when the tallest and biggest man he'd ever seen stepped out onto the porch. The guy was even taller than T-Rex. He wore a cowboy hat, work boots, dusty jeans, and the word Goliath came to mind.

"Jeremiah." T-Rex's smile was huge as he crossed the yard with his hand extended. "Long time no see."

Jeremiah's hand swallowed T-Rex's as the two shook. Jeremiah's striking pale-blue eyes swung to Wilbur and fixated on him. "Is this the guy?"

Wilbur took a step back. He was pretty sure his nose would come to the man's navel. One of the guy's beefy hands would fit perfectly over Wilbur's entire face and a portion of his head. He could mug Wilbur to death.

He tried to shrink behind Stripper as the dogs padded over to them. Wilbur swallowed tightly as his fingers gripped the back of Stripper's shirt. "Nice doggies."

"Get him into the barn," T-Rex said as the man with the tribal tattoo unloaded a few things from the back of the SUV.

Wilbur rapidly shook his head. "But I don't want to go in there. Can't you interrogate me on the front porch with some lemonade?"

Stripper turned and pinned Wilbur against the SUV. "All you have to do is drop your pants and we can end this."

Every single man in the yard turned, their eyes landing on Wilbur.

Chapter Four.

Stripper molded his body to Wilbur's. He glided his hands over Wilbur's and then shackled them to the human's side.

"I'm not going to drop my pants for you." Wilbur's voice was unsteady. "So stop asking."

Stripper was fully aware that all eyes were on them, and he wanted to kill every man who dared gaze at the human. He closed his eyes and counted to ten before pulling in a deep breath. "Then into the barn you go."

Although he was almost sure that this man wasn't Reno, Stripper wasn't one hundred percent positive. He couldn't let his guard down. He wanted to. God, how he wanted to take Wilbur into the barn and fuck him. But except for the birthmark, he had to be sure who the guy was.

The attraction he felt toward the human was growing, and Stripper's bear was snarling at the idea that he couldn't have the man. So was Stripper. He grabbed Wilbur's wrists and pulled the man along.

"Stop!" Wilbur shouted. "That place looks very unsanitary."

If this was Reno, the man was damn good at acting. Stripper was teetering on the edge of his control, ready to give in. He yanked Wilbur through the barn door. The man landed on his ass. Stripper hadn't meant to use that much force. He cursed under his breath and helped Wilbur to his feet.

"Thank you," Wilbur said as he dusted himself off.

Stripper wondered why this guy would thank him when...never mind. It didn't really matter. Stripper was tired of pussyfooting around. "Show me your ass cheeks."

"Show me yours." Wilbur crossed his arms over his chest as if he'd showed Stripper a thing or two. Well, Stripper was about to show Wilbur a few things. Like the fact that he had no problem being naked. He pulled his shirt over his head, negligently tossing it to the ground.

"Since when do you have to take a shirt off to show butt cheeks?" Wilbur backed up.

"You challenged the wrong man when it comes to showing body parts." Stripper loosened his belt, the metal clinking as he went for the button of his pants.

Wilbur threw up both hands as if trying to stop an invisible wall from closing in on him. "Halt. Halt. Halt. There is no need to get naked. I take back my challenge."

The man's cheeks had turned scarlet, his gaze darting nervously. Was he looking for an escape? There wasn't one. T-Rex had called ahead and asked Jeremiah to secure the barn. Jeremiah was ex-military and knew exactly what that request entailed. There would be no escaping for Wilbur.

"Show me your cheeks," Stripper said, repeating his demand. "And all of this can go away."

"Why are you so adamant about seeing my bare bottom?" Wilbur asked.

"Because Reno has a birthmark. Do you have one?"

Uncertainty crept into Wilbur's green eyes. "How do I know this isn't a trick?"

"You don't."

"Then why should I show you? What if I get my pants down and you-" Wilbur turned a darker shade of red. "You know...want more?"

Stripper licked his lips and smiled. "Then you can cross the first item off of your bucket list, darling." He shoved his pants down to his knees. He'd gone commando today and was glad he had.

Wilbur's head slowly turned to the side, his brows pulling together. He puckered his lips and then tapped his chin. "I'm not trying to be rude or criticize any part of you. You're a very handsome man. But-" He waved a hand toward Stripper's groin. "Are balls supposed to be that big? They're like two coconuts hanging from your tree. I feel like they should have an effect on the ocean tides."

"Nice, huh?" Stripper palmed his sac and squeezed, groaning as he thought of how good Wilbur's lips would feel wrapped around them. Everyone always made a joke about his nuts, but Stripper was damn proud of them. They weren't as big as everyone made them out to be, but it was a damn fine ego boost.

Wait, he was supposed to be interrogating Wilbur, not showing off his prized assets. "Now show me yours." He meant that as a demand, but it came out more like a growled plea.

Wilbur hesitated. "Promise me you won't do anything to me."

"Promise."

The guy didn't look convinced but turned around and slowly lowered his slacks. Stripper had to bite his lower lip as the two plump mounds were revealed. They were creamy white, perfect, and...Stripper's pulse raced. No birthmark. This wasn't Reno.

He pulled his pants up enough to go to Wilbur and touch, but then his phone rang. He kept his eyes locked onto that nice-looking ass as he answered his phone.

Was the guy really answering his phone? Wilbur stood there with his butt hanging out, unsure if he should pull his pants back up. His heart was already racing, and now his nerves were stretching raw. Just how long did he have to stand here like this?

"You have to go to the fifth level," Stripper said. "No, no, no. Ignore the things on the fourth. The stuff is worthless."

Frowning, Wilbur turned. Stripper was still standing there with his meat and potatoes hanging out, talking on the phone. He had one arm tucked under the other with the phone pressed to his ear.

"You have to kill the guard dogs. No, don't use the Glock. Use the M4 rifle." Stripper rolled his eyes. "Just watch your back because Crimson King likes to sneak up on people and kill them when they're battling."

What on earth was he talking about? Guns, dogs, killing people? Just who was this guy? Crimson King? Who was that? Wilbur wasn't sure he wanted to know. Stripper stood there with his junk hanging out as if it were a natural thing to do, as if it was something he did all the time.

Wilbur stole glances at the man's groin. He couldn't help it. That was the biggest cock he'd ever seen. Not that he'd seen that many. But it was definitely much bigger than Wilbur's.

Wilbur just held on to his pants, his butt still hanging out. His skin flushed with embarrassment as he listened to Stripper talk on the phone. His eyes wandered to Stripper's groin once more. What would it feel like to have sex? More importantly, what would it feel like to have that thing shoved into him?

At that thought, Wilbert quickly lifted his pants and fastened them. Reality had settled back in, and the stench of the barn began to make him gag once more. For the first time he noticed horses in the stalls. Wilbur took a step back when he realized he was standing too close to one of them.

"Look, I gotta go," Stripper said into the phone. "I'm kinda busy." The man paused. "Yeah, well, some of us have jobs, numbnut. I'll call you when I get home."

Stripper hung up and shook his head while grunting. "Some people just need to be led by the hand." He shoved his phone into his pocket and then glanced at Wilbur. "Why'd you pull your pants up?"

Was Wilbur really having this conversation? None of this seemed real. Maybe he'd fallen asleep at the office and dreamed all of this. But he'd never had a dream this vivid before, and he definitely had never dreamed about a man this handsome. "Do you have proof now?"

He hoped so because he wasn't shown Stripper his butt again. The man already appeared disappointed because Wilbur wasn't as naked as Stripper was. Was he pouting?

"Okay, look," Stripper said as he moved forward.

Wilbur shook his head. "Pull your pants back up if you're gonna talk to me." Wilbur shivered. "It's like a python staring at me."

Stripper glanced down as if he'd forgotten that his beans and wiener were exposed. He shrugged as if it was no big deal. "I just want to apologize for the whole mix-up. Since you don't have the large birthmark, you can't be Reno. Unless of course you found a way to get rid of it."

Wilbur grunted in frustration as he tried to move past Stripper. "I am not going to go through this with you again. I showed you my butt cheeks. I'm not Reno. Now can you take me home?"

Stripper reached out and snagged Wilbur's arm, hauling him close. Their chests collided, and Wilbur found it hard to breathe. He felt Stripper's cock wedged between them, and it was growing thicker by the second. Wilbur's breath came out in pants as he gazed up into Stripper's beautiful hazel eyes. "You promised." His voice came out breathy as his body started to mold the Stripper's.

"I promised not to touch you when your pants were down." Stripper nuzzled Wilbur's neck and inhaled deeply. When he looked up, his eyes seemed to glow. His voice became low and rough. "But I won't take you in a filthy barn. Not for your first time."

Wilbur's very soul seemed to clench at Stripper's words. Too many sensations raced through his body, too much heat and too many pinpoints of emotions to make sense of. He fought to still his racing heart, to ease the harshness of his breathing.

Sliding his fingers through Wilbur's hair, Stripper gripped the back of Wilber's neck, catching him by surprise as the man tipped Wilbur's head back and lowered his own.

Stripper's tongue brushed over Wilbur's lips and stroked inside in a teasing little thrust that had them both catching their breaths when the kiss deepened to much more than a gentle assault.

Stripper set fire to Wilbur. There was no other way to describe it. The man made Wilbur burn with need and drown in a hunger to be possessed. His hand slid up Stripper's thick chest as his senses were assaulted.

Wilbur began to open up. He allowed Stripper to explore his mouth as the man's hands gripped Wilbur's ass. Wilbur didn't want to live with any more regrets. He'd sacrificed a lot to make others happy, but he wanted to be greedy, selfish, and, for once, find happiness for himself. He wanted to be wild and free with Stripper.

He no longer cared that Stripper had kidnapped him. It had been a misunderstanding, a mix-up. He wondered at his rationality but couldn't deny the strange bond that seemed to be forming between them. It was as if he couldn't get close enough to the guy. One thing held true though. Wilbur was tired of living by everyone else's expectations. He wanted to throw caution to the wind and have fun for once, to live in the moment.

"Look at you," Stripper said against Wilbur's lips before nipping at them seductively. "You're a little wildcat, aren't you?"

Wilbur shook his head. "More like a tamed pussycat. But I'll be a wildcat if you can show me how." Wilbur winked at Stripper and said, "Meow." He followed the word up with a soft purr.

Stripper's nostrils flared before he nodded and dipped his head once more, demanding another kiss. The heat stoked between them as Wilbur gave in to the pleasure.

"Touch me." Stripper's voice was strained. "I need to feel your hand wrapped around me."

Wilbur was ready to do anything that Stripper demanded of him. The feeling of pure abandonment was incredible. It was truly sad that Wilbur had never known passion like this, and all the man was doing was kissing him.

"God dammit!" T-Rex walked into the barn. "You're supposed to be interrogating him, not shoving your tongue down his throat."

For the first time since meeting these men, Wilbur wanted to kick T-Rex in the shin for the interruption. His hand had been inches away from Stripper's cock, and Wilbur was half tempted to grab it anyway. Stripper then yanked his pants up, turned and gave a low, menacing growl.

"At least tell me you got the intel we need before you decided to molest him," T-Rex said.

Wilbur felt his skin heat as the embarrassment of being caught settled in. Stripper's hands tightened on him. "This isn't Reno. I checked for the birthmark and it isn't there."

T-Rex's eyes dropped to Wilbur's ass, and Wilbur had an urge to hide his backside.

"Are you sure?" T-Rex asked.

"I examined his ass for myself," Stripper replied. "Aside from being very nicely shaped, it's unblemished."

They stood there talking about Wilbur's ass like it was no big deal, an everyday conversation. If T-Rex asked to see his bare bottom, Wilbur was going to lose it.

Instead of looking relieved, T-Rex's features darkened. "Then where in the fuck is the real Nicolas Reno?"

"I don't think he fled the country yet," Stripper said. "We would've heard if he'd gotten the codes."

"What codes?" Wilbur asked.

"Long story," both Stripper and T-Rex said at the same time. "But we need to return Mr. Castro to his life," T-Rex added.

The thought of going home to his goldfish no longer appealed to Wilbur. He'd had a glimpse of excitement and was now hooked. He didn't want to go back to his boring, stressful job or his empty apartment. Wilbur had associates he mingled with but no one he could call friend. As pathetic as it sounded, he wanted to hang out with the guys who had kidnapped him.

Was he really that lonely? Wilbur tried to deny the fact, but he knew it to be true. He shored up his resolve and nodded. "That'll be fine with me."

He wasn't a loser, and he wasn't lonely. He did have a life. As exciting as all this had been, he needed to go home. That feeling of wanting to be wild and free was just a byproduct of what Stripper had been doing to him. Wilbur was a responsible person, and he had obligations. Besides, Wilbur wasn't a wealthy man. He couldn't just pick up and go traipsing off after an adventure. He had bills to pay.

A mask fell over Stripper's face as he pulled away from Wilbur. He yanked his pants back into place and walked out of the barn, shirt forgotten.

"If you'll come out to the SUV, we'll give you a ride home, Mr. Castro. I'm truly sorry for the mix-up," T-Rex said before he, too, exited the barn.

Wilbur was left standing there, staring at the wide-open door. He hurried over to Stripper's shirt and picked it up. He had intended to return it, but instead, he shook it out, rolled it up, and then stuffed it into his pocket. It was bulky, but Wilbur didn't care. He wasn't even sure why he was keeping the shirt, but he felt better knowing that it was there.

He strode out of the barn to see the men standing around the vehicle. Even Jeremiah was standing there, a head taller than everyone else. Wilbur hated that all eyes were on him, but he kept his stride sure and confident. When he reached the SUV, T-Rex opened the back door. Wilbur slid in and clasped his hands in his lap.

To his dismay, Stripper sat up front. The man wouldn't look at him. Maybe that was for the best. It was better that Wilbur left today behind him. He needed to forget about the excitement and terror he had lived through. It didn't matter that today was the first day he had felt alive.

He was going to go home, try not to kill his goldfish, and get back to his normal routine. For the first time in five years, Wilbur had missed a day of work. He was pretty sure Mr. Fiber wouldn't blow a gasket or fire him. Maybe.

Wilbur might even go visit his parents this weekend. At least now he had something to look forward to. As the SUV pulled away, Wilbur took one last look at the farm. His eyes flickered over the barn, and his skin heated at the memory of the hottest kiss he'd ever had.

The man next to him-the one with the tribal tattoo-nudged Wilbur's leg and then stuck his hand out. "Truly sorry for what happened. I'm Shott."

Wilbur shook the man's hand. "Where exactly are we?" Since he was no longer deemed a threat, Wilbur felt it safe to ask.