by Lynn Lorenz
He knew that soon the scent of their release would fill the air.
Phillip’s balls pulled up, the first signal he was close. Estaban’s rhythm faltered, a sure sign he was near to losing it.
“Jerk yourself, babe. Come on my dick.” Estaban’s voice whispered harshly in Phillip’s ear as he wrapped his arms around his chest and pulled him back to straddle his lap.
Estaban thrust up into him and he bounced as he took the force of the blows in his ass. He grabbed his dick and stroked it from base to tip, and the sensation of fullness blended with the urge to come.
“Soon.” He jerked his cock, making a circle of his hand and fingers to fuck into, matching Estaban’s thrusting. Without much more warning, his balls slammed into him, his cock swelled and he gasped as he shot his load onto the bed.
“Fuck. That’s good. So tight when you come. Fuck.” Estaban held him as he crooned into Phillip’s ear. “Makes me…oh, fuck. Shit.” His cock grew thick inside Phillip and in a heartbeat he came, covering Phillip’s tunnel with his release.
They both shuddered, then slid down to the bed, Phillip moving to avoid the wet spot and Estaban rolling off and to the side. When Estaban stopped panting, he got out of bed, went to the adjoining bathroom and returned with a damp washcloth to clean Phillip and the bed.
Once finished, he tossed it onto the floor and climbed back in, spooning Phillip with a kiss to the back of his neck.
“Can you sleep now?” Phillip laughed. That was what the sex had been about. Estaban was nervous and eager and scared to death all at the same time.
And Phillip didn’t blame him one bit.
After all, it’s not every day you open your own mechanic’s garage in your home town.
* * * *
Phillip rushed to find a place to park. It was almost ten and that was when the ribbon cutting was scheduled. By the lack of parking, he assumed the entire town had turned out.
Amazing. He’d never thought this day would come, but he’d learned when Estaban set his mind on something, he made it happen. Like when he’d decided Phillip would be his. Or that he and Phillip would spend the weekends at his mom’s place, which was technically his. Lucky for them, she insisted on sharing her home with them.
But Phillip still had his job at the ranch, so during the week he lived in the bunkhouse. Now that Estaban had the garage and they were talking about moving in together permanently, the where had become the big question.
So that was why Phillip was running late, because he had to do his chores way out of town at the ranch first, then hightail it back for the ceremony. And his ranch hours played hell with their mornings, with Phillip getting up at zero-dark-thirty, waking Estaban up way too early.
They both knew it had to change.
He found a spot and maneuvered the small pickup he’d bought two months ago for transportation. It was cheap, gas efficient and Estaban had it purring like a kitten. He’d even helped Phillip learn to drive.
But parking was a bitch, so he took his time getting into the spot, knowing if he messed up, he’d only be even later. He hopped out, locked it and took off running to the garage.
Two months ago, Joe Smith had agreed to sell the shop to Estaban. He’d grown tired of dealing with it, and since Estaban had made him a fair offer, he’d taken it and retired.
It would be tight for a while, paying off the loan and making payroll, but Estaban assured Phillip he’d picked the best of the guys who applied for the mechanic position and a very sharp local teenage girl, just out of high school, to run the front counter.
Phillip had even worked on the weekends with her to show her the ropes—running the register, calling for parts, writing up the estimates—until she had it down without too many mistakes.
He skidded around the corner and stopped. Where his old trailer had once sat, there was a fresh blacktop with new parking spaces marked off in bright yellow. Estaban had worked after hours and on weekends painting and cleaning and making the waiting room pleasant and comfy.
And today was the big day.
A crowd had formed around the front of the garage, so Phillip had to work his way through the people to the door.
“There you are!” Edward waved to Phillip. “Over here!” Jack, in uniform, stood next to him. Brian, also in uniform, and Rush stood next to Jack. Phillip broke into a huge grin. He knew their new friends wouldn’t miss this.
Jack leaned closer to be heard above the crowd. “Brian says you and Estaban need a house to rent. Say the word and my old house is yours. All I want is nine hundred a month. You pay the utilities.”
Phillip gasped and stuck out his hand. “You bet! We’ll take that deal!” Jack was offering him a steal and he’d be a fool not to take it.
“Come out tomorrow. I’ll meet you there and show you around. If you like it, it’s yours.”
Phillip shook his hand. Man, this day couldn’t get any better.
Estaban’s mother pushed forward. “I’m so glad you’re here! He would have been so upset if you‘d missed it.”
“Are you kidding? Miss this? Never!” He hugged her and she broke into tears. Phillip wiped them away with his thumb.
“Don’t or you’ll get me started.” Phillip laughed, but he knew he was too damn close to even joke about it.
“Hey, where is he?” He glanced around the crowd. “I had no idea this many people would show up.”
“There’s at least thirty people here, is my count.” Manuel stepped out behind Rush.
“Thanks, everyone, for coming. It’s going to mean so much to Estaban.” Phillip fought back his emotions. Damn, these men are the best.
Estaban stepped out of the front door, looked around and their gazes met. A shiver raced through Phillip as he smiled at Estaban, the new owner of Martinez Motors.
He pushed through the crowd to Estaban’s side, pulling Mrs. Martinez with him. After all, she’d put up a second mortgage on the house for the down payment. With every cent they could raise going into the garage, all their hopes and dreams rode on it.
For a moment, Estaban stared at him, then Phillip moved next to him, grabbed Estaban by the shoulders and gave him a hug.
“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered in Estaban’s ear.
“I couldn’t have done it without you and your support.” Estaban pressed his forehead to Phillip’s. “Love you, babe.”
“Love you too. Now, let’s get this place open!”
A big red ribbon stretched across the garage bays and the roll-up doors stood open. Everything was set.
Clapping started when Joe Smith came out of the front office, dressed in a dark suit and holding a huge pair of shears. He moved over to the middle bay and the crowd fell quiet.
Estaban stepped next to him. They shook hands and posed for the sea of phones taking pictures. Flashes went off and they both blinked, then laughed.
Joe cleared his throat. “I am just proud as can be to cut the ribbon, opening the new Martinez Motors Garage. I hope everyone will continue to bring their business here because they need to pay the mortgage. I don’t want it back.” People laughed. “And if you haven’t, well, what are you waiting for? Estaban Martinez is hands down the best mechanic in this part of Texas and I’m happy he saw fit to take this place off my hands and let me retire.”
The crowd laughed again. Estaban’s face turned a shade of pink beneath his darker skin color.
“Speech!” someone shouted and the crowd took it up. “Speech! Speech!”
Estaban nodded and held up his hands to quiet them. “Thank you for coming out today to celebrate with me and my family.” He nodded to his mother, who grinned back at him, her pride in her son lighting her face. “Thanks, Mom, for believing in me.” He put his arm around her waist and kissed her on the temple.
He walked over to Phillip, standing off to the side, and pulled him over to where he’d been. Phillip whispered, “What are you doing?” but Estaban didn’t answer. Instead, he motioned for silence.
; “This is my life partner, Phillip Mott. He used to work here at the front counter, but now he’s working at the Westons’ Double T Ranch. Without him, I never would have believed in myself or trusted my ability to make this dream of mine happen. Thanks, babe.” He gave Phillip a kiss on the cheek. Then he turned to Joe Smith.
“Hey, if you’re planning on kissing me, think again.” But Joe was all smiles.
“No, but I would like to say thank you. For giving me your baby and for letting me take over. I promise to do you proud, Joe.” They shook hands. “Now, will you please cut the damn ribbon?”
Joe laughed, raised the shears, opened them, paused then snipped them closed. The ribbon fluttered to the ground in two pieces. “I declare this garage open!”
The crowd cheered.
Estaban, Phillip and his mother hugged each other. They all had tears in their eyes. Phillip looked out at the crowd and waved to the guys, Rush and Brian, Jack and Edward, clapping and cheering. This had to be one of the happiest days of Phillip’s life, being a part of a new family, Estaban and his mom, and having the great friends he’d made here in Spring Lake.
Beggars might not be choosers, but he wasn’t a beggar anymore.
He had a man he loved and who loved him, a wonderful mother who loved him, great friends, a dream job, and the ranch.
And he’d done it all without using his power.
Estaban pulled him in close, pressing his head to Phillip’s. “You, not this garage, are the best thing that ever happened to me. You’re the best, most honorable man I know, and I love you.”
Then he kissed Phillip, right there in front of everyone.
Phillip lost it, and he threw his arms around Estaban and let those damn tears spill as he buried his face in Estaban’s neck. “Damn it, I love you too.”
Estaban tucked him to his side and looked out at the crowd of smiling, happy-for-them folks.
“I don’t think Spring Lake is going to ever be the same, Phillip.”
Phillip laughed. “I have to agree. Someone once said this town was turning into the San Francisco of Texas. Maybe he was right.”
“Who said that?” Estaban gave him a look.
“Jimmy. Of course, he didn’t mean it in a good way.”
They looked at each other, then broke into laughter.
Estaban shook his head. “Babe, I’m so glad I saw the day come when I could fire his ass.”
“Me too. You think we could turn the downtown into the Castro? I hear that’s the center of the gay world in San Francisco.”
“Well, how about we start small.” Estaban reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small sticker. “I figure we’d put this on the front door, under the credit card signs.” He held it up for Phillip to see.
“A rainbow sticker?” Phillip took it from him.
“I figured we’d work our way up to flying the pride flag.”
The crowd dispersed and Brian, Rush, Jack and Edward approached them.
“Hey, guys. Thanks for coming.” Estaban held out his hand and shook them all.
“What do you have there?” Rush pointed to the sticker.
Phillip held it up. “We’re changing this town, one sticker at a time. Come on. I’m putting it on the door.”
They walked over to the front door. Inside, Joe and Mrs. Martinez chatted over cups of coffee from the new machine. They waved and everyone waved back.
“Here, you do the honors.” Phillip returned the sticker to Estaban.
He stepped inside and peeled off the backing. After lining it up, he pressed it on to the glass.
Outside, the guys cheered.
Estaban came back out and they all stared at it as they stood on the sidewalk.
A car pulled into the lot and parked. A young woman got out and approached. She smiled at them, reached for the door, but stopped.
“Hey, a rainbow! LBGT friendly.” She smiled at the men. “I’m new in town. It’s good to see this place is supportive.” She went inside and up to the counter.
Estaban and all the guys exchanged looks. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“Maybe this town could be the new San Francisco of Texas.” Phillip grinned.
“You know, you might lose as many customers as you gain,” Rush said. “Been there, but it evens out. Trust me.”
“One sticker at a time.” Estaban nodded as he pulled Phillip in for a hug.
“This time next year, I might be organizing the Pride parade.” Edward shrugged at everyone’s blank stares. “You never know.”
Phillip glanced around at the men standing in support of Estaban’s new business. This town had changed. He’d changed. He’d found a new life, one he could be proud of, one where people trusted and liked him. A life he’d never dreamed of having.
Until he‘d gotten out of that semi on a rainy day, and walked into Spring Lake to meet his future.
Want to see more from Pride Publishing?
Here’s a taster for you to enjoy!
Elemental Evidence: Breathing Betrayal
Bellora Quinn & Sadie Rose Bermingham
Excerpt
Rain pink-pink-pinked against the window pane and drip-drip-dripped into the pot that Jake had placed under the leak in the hallway. Murky gray morning light greeted him when he opened his eyes. Another drizzly day. He had thought that was just some persistent stereotype, a comic exaggeration—about how rainy it was in London—but so far, this month, it was turning out to be true.
Jake was steadily getting used to the weather. It really wasn’t all that different from his native Michigan. He had been told by his colleagues this was an unusually wet November and that when winter finally kicked off, it wouldn’t be as severe as he was accustomed to. That was something to be glad about, at least.
The weather was not the only thing he’d had to get used to after moving a little over three and a half thousand miles away from the only place he’d known. London was worlds away from Detroit. It was still alive for one thing, not a dying husk. It was cleaner too, even with more than ten times the population. London had its crime and its dangerous places just like any large city, but even the urban degeneration here had a certain vibrancy to it that was unlike the desperation and decay of Detroit.
Enough of that.
Thinking about home was a guaranteed way to put him in a bad mood. At least he didn’t hate his new abode.
The apartment was small and leaky but it was clean and bug free and he didn’t have a lot of stuff anyway. Four rooms—kitchen, bathroom, small living room and a closet-sized bedroom that was barely big enough to hold a double bed and the armoire. The kitchen was equally tiny. A small fridge, sink and an ancient two-burner stove. There was just enough counter space to plug in his coffeepot. He was not complaining. The small space made it easy to keep warm and clean and discouraged clutter. It was also paid for, which was another big plus.
He hadn’t liked that idea at first. He thought the university should just pay him outright and let him figure out how to deal with the rent and utilities, but he had to admit that having them take care of the bills took some of the worry off his mind. Unfortunately he still had plenty of other things to worry about.
No, he told himself firmly. He was not going to start off the day thinking about home and everything he’d deliberately left behind when he got on the plane. That was over.
Jake dragged himself out of bed and across the living room to the bathroom. After a quick slash, he washed his face, finger-combed his hair with wet hands then threw on some sweats and he was ready for his morning run. There would be time for a shower and food later. Back in Detroit, he would have started his day by driving to the track or the gym to work out before heading to the station house. Here he could walk or use public transportation to get just about anywhere he needed to go. At first the idea of not having a car, of not being able to just hop in and drive wherever he had to go, any time he wanted, had given him more of a panicky, trapped feeling than being an ocean away from everyone he kne
w and everything familiar. A car was the very first thing he’d asked about, after moving his meager belongings into the apartment. The research assistant who’d been assigned to ensuring he got settled in and had what he needed had told him to give it a week or two and, if he still wanted to purchase a car, the university would arrange it. At the time, Jake had thought there was no possible way he could survive for so long without a vehicle at his disposal, but by the end of his first week he had explored the Tube, the cabs and the buses, got himself an Oyster card and found he could get around remarkably well without having to fight through traffic behind the wheel. He hadn’t brought up the need for a car again.
There was a small park only one street over from where he lived, and several right around the university, but they were little more than decorative green space—compact garden squares hemmed in by the tall, dark façades of houses and office buildings—nice for a picnic maybe, but not big enough for a run. Fortunately Regent’s Park was fairly close to where he lived and the paths and trails there were perfect. The park was never truly empty but this early in the morning, especially on such a wet, gray day, only the dedicated were out. They all had little earbuds or headphones on and their eyes were fixed forward, everyone in their own private bubbles. No one stopped to say good morning. No one drew him to one side to ask if he could touch their grandmother’s wedding ring and tell them if she’d hidden cash somewhere in the attic. It was great. It was almost perfect, except for one thing.
There was one other person from the university that liked to run the same route he did and while Jake didn’t see him every morning, it happened often enough that he’d started looking for the guy while he ran. That annoyed him. Running was his time to clear his head. It was meditative. He could tune out and think of nothing. Or at least he could until he started paying more attention to the people he passed than he did the simple rhythm of putting one foot down in front of the other. Now during his morning runs, he was distracted by looking around to see if he’d catch sight of a particular slender figure whose long legs ate up the distance like the wind.
