He murmured vague words of comfort, much as he might speak to Mandy when she got nervous during a thunderstorm. “It’s okay. Let it out, let it go. Nothing you can do now…nothing I can do. We have to go on living because Someone Up There decided it wasn’t our time to go. It’s not your fault, and nothing you could have done would have changed it.”
While Garrett wasn’t sure the spoke true, he couldn’t visualize the fierce and vital man he held doing anything cowardly or wrong to result in others being hurt or killed in his stead. He sensed Dan was not the type to save his own ass at the expense of anyone else. Somehow Garrett would bet his last dollar on it.
After a while, Dan’s breathing slowed and evened. Garrett started to slip free and lower him back onto the pillows. Then Dan’s eyes opened again.
“I wasn’t asleep, just trying to do like you said—let go of it, back off, and get free. I think I’m all right now. Sorry about that, but thanks. It helped…you helped.”
For a long moment they looked at each other, black eyes and hazel, probing the depths of each other’s souls. All at once Garrett realized he was only wearing his Jockeys and Dan had on only a pair of baggy boxers and his casts. Although the casts made it an awkward embrace, an embrace it was, warm skin to warm skin, two muscled masculine bodies intimately close. This was not a kid he held, not a brother or sister. It was another adult male. Shock and a surprising sizzle of desire zinged along his nerves.
Dan’s lips, only a few inches from his, drew him like a magnet. He bent, closing the small distance. Garrett’s nose grazed Dan’s and slid past. His lips brushed a stubbled cheek and found Dan’s mouth, warm and amazingly welcoming. Dan’s uninjured arm lifted until he could weave his fingers into the thick hair at the back of Garrett’s neck. Garrett rested on one elbow, his other hand curled around Dan’s bare shoulder, kneading the solid muscle, feeling the subtle shivers of excitement beneath the hot skin, excitement mirroring his own. When he shifted closer, his cock bumped against the fiberglass covering Dan’s thigh. The small pain jolted him back to awareness.
“Whoa. What the hell are we doing? I hadn’t planned to come on to you, Dan. If this isn’t something you want, tell me now and it won’t go any farther, tonight or ever.”
“Do I look like I’m trying to fight you off? It’s okay, Garrett. There’s something here, a need pulling both of us. While I’m not in any position to do this right, whatever we can do, I’m more than willing.”
A quick glance revealed the pale blue sheet was tented over Dan’s erection. At least the cast didn’t offer a barrier there. Garrett reached down, brushed the sheet back, and clasped his hand around Dan’s cock, which had already found its way up through the open fly of his shorts. For a breath or two, Garrett simply held it, savoring this new experience, while he took in the male beauty of the organ, dark with blood and throbbing with the same urgency he felt in himself.
“I’d like to taste you, suck you.” His voice came thick and hesitant.
“Très bon,” Dan murmured. “I’d like that too.”
Garrett shifted to kneel by Dan’s side. He reached for the waist of the Cajun’s boxers and pushed the fabric aside. Although the denim blue half body cast completely covered Dan’s right leg from foot to waist, the part around his hips left the front and back open. Damn thing has to be uncomfortable. Yet at the moment Garrett was pretty sure the other man was not thinking about discomfort at all, at least not the injury discomfort. There was only one thing they both desired right now. The most intimate touch they could manage.
Stooping, Garrett brushed his lips across the tip of Dan’s cock. The hot skin felt like velvet to his touch, velvet drawn tight over a quivering shaft of living steel.
Dan sucked in a sharp breath. “Sacre bleu. Don’t stop, man!”
Garrett chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m not about to.” This time he swiped the tip of his tongue across the moist slit, taking up the glittering drop of moisture poised there. He tasted the salt in the bead of precum, and a unique flavor that had to be just Dan.
Then slowly he eased his mouth down over the head, savoring the taste, the texture, and the pulsing vitality. He ran his tongue around the groove beneath the head, feeling the pebbled surface as the tiny nerve buds leaped to his touch.
He steadied the base with his hand as he slid down the length, taking as much of it in his mouth as he could. Then he drew back, sucking and tugging with his lips. Dan bucked his hips as much as he could within the restraining weight of his cast. Garrett glanced up to see the other man’s eyes were closed and his face drawn taut in a grimace of arousal.
Bet he’s not thinking about nightmares or the horror of Iraq now. All he can do is feel, enjoy. I’m glad I can give him this much relief.
With that thought, Garrett let himself stop thinking too, and gave over to the incredibly potent thrill of pleasing another, giving the maximum pleasure he could. He felt every tiny throb and shudder, heard every gasp and groan, and delighted in it all. In an accelerating rhythm, he bobbed his head to simulate the thrusts and withdrawal of a good fuck. The real thing was what Dan needed, and this was the next best.. He sensed when Dan neared the moment of climax and prepared himself for the sudden flood of semen. It came in a burst as Dan groaned and mumbled something in French in a guttural exclamation.
Garrett didn’t withdraw until Dan’s cock began to subside and the fierce pulsing faded to a slight tremor. As he sat back on his heels and shifted to get his legs untangled, Dan’s eyes opened, sleepy now and weighted with the relaxation following his climax and ejaculation.
“Man, what you just did was amazing. I feel completely drained. In a good way, though, totally unwound. But how about you?”
Garrett grinned. “It’ll keep. Right now what you need is some sleep. I don’t think you’ll have any more nightmares tonight.” He cuffed Dan’s shoulder in a fond manner, just rough enough to be a man’s caress and not too sentimental.
Dan gave him a drowsy smile. “Okay. I’m not sure I could stay awake long enough to do you any good right now anyway. I know owe you one.”
“I won’t let you forget. You’re my prisoner here for a while, you know.”
Dan chuckled sleepily. “Could be in a worse jail, I reckon. Not too many jailors provide a blowjob like that.”
Garrett sensed the other man had fallen asleep even before he left the room. Mandy had sprawled just outside the door in the hall the whole time. She got up and followed him into his room, coming to stand between his knees as he sat for a moment on the edge of his bed. She looked up with wise golden eyes, so sweetly serious he had to wonder what she was thinking. “Are you okay with this, girl? Can you share me with our refugee? He’s partly yours too, you know, and I believe we both find him pretty special.”
She had no answer, at least none he could read from her. She snuggled her head against him for a moment before she settled onto the rug at the bedside with a sigh saying plainly she was glad to be home.
Chapter 3
Garrett found sleep elusive, even though he was tired. At last he got up and went into the shower, thinking maybe it would relax him enough go to sleep. A cold shower might be what he needed because his cock was already half hard, just remembering the expression on Dan’s face as he came and the lilt of his Cajun-accented French, first the tender words he’d spoken to Mandy and then his muttered exclamations of ecstasy.
After a moment’s thought, he rejected the idea of cold, knowing it would wake him up even more. Finally, standing in the warm spray, he let his thoughts go where they would. He found himself stroking his aching erection, focusing on images of Dan as he did so. He’d never been affected as intensely and quickly as he had by his guest. The sudden burst of lust had taken him by surprise. He hadn’t gone into Dan’s room with anything sexual in mind. His only thought at the moment had been to calm the other man’s nightmares and bring him a measure of peace and comfort. Intention or no, something had happened as he held Dan, something powerful and beyo
nd resistance.
So far it seemed like Dan was agreeable, a fact in itself surprising. The Cajun had been a soldier after all, and Garrett was pretty sure the military still did not tolerate open homosexuality. Or had Dan’s travels been driven by an effort to come to terms with things he’d discovered about himself and been troubled by? There was so much they hadn’t yet said, so much he didn’t know.
Garrett wanted to learn all there was to know about Dan Boudreaux. Such a compelling and intense interest in another person was new to him also. Not since the twins’ death had he really cared about anyone, and as long as he’d been responsible for them, he hadn’t had the time or energy to go deeply into any relationship.
Closing his eyes, he stroked harder and faster, feeling his cock throb, his balls tighten, and an elusive release getting closer, closer…His climax came suddenly, a burst of cum erupting into his hand. When the spasms ceased, he rinsed off and stepped out of the shower, suspecting he could sleep now. After toweling off, he padded back to his room and threw himself down on the bed. Mandy grumbled softly, a half-asleep complaint at being disturbed in the middle of the night. Garrett chuckled.
“Mandy, girl, you’re going to have to get used to things being different. I don’t know how it’ll all work out. We may become a household of three for a while instead of just you and me. I think I could get used to that. How about you?”
She thumped her tail a couple of times, which he interpreted to mean she was good with it whatever way things went. Her heart was certainly big enough to encompass as much love as was needed. From the looks of things, Dan needed some love, maybe a whole lot of it.
* * * *
Dan awoke, started to stretch, then had to stop. The weight and restriction of his casts held him almost immobile. Shit, I’ve gotta live with this cement suit for days yet.
In spite of frustration, an inexplicable feeling of well-being pervaded his senses. The drugging despair that had dogged him since the ghastly night in Iraq seemed to have finally eased its hold.
While he still remembered, the strangling pain was less, the guilt and horror veiled and dimmed to a bearable level. What…why…when? His body might be held prisoner, but his mind knew no such restrictions. His thoughts and recollections ranged free. Then he remembered the surprising end to his nightmare last night. Garrett—his rescuer in many more ways than one, and now an entirely new form of sustenance. Garrett’s hands and mouth and the incredible sensations they had aroused. Wow, wasn’t it some blowjob?
The grin sweeping over his face at the memory felt strange. He hadn’t had much to smile about for many months.
The soft pad of four feet and the slight click of claws on the hardwood floor interrupted his reverie. A golden furred head poked through the cracked door, nudged the portal wider, and the dog entered. She approached the bed slowly, her tail a gentle flag, waving as if in the lightest breeze. The question was clear in her amber eyes. Am I welcome? Can I come get a scratch? I’d like to be friends if you’ll let me.
Reaching with his good arm, Dan beckoned the dog closer. Her nose, cool and damp, nudged into his palm in a gentle caress. Her tongue flicked out and swiped once to warm the cool spot. Then she lifted her head and rested her chin on the edge of the bed. He made an awkward job of it but managed to scratch her ears.
“Well, Mandy girl, are you ready to make me at home here? You’re quite a gal. If I was a lady too, you might be jealous. I think we can get along, though. I won’t ever try to take your place with your boss, you know. I recognize true love when I see it.”
Mandy gave him a doggy grin and after a final quick lick, she turned and trotted out the door. A moment later, Garrett showed up, carrying a laden tray.
“I’m not the world’s greatest cook,” he said with a rueful shake of his head. “While I can usually manage not to burn toast too bad and sometimes fry an egg without busting it, that’s about the extent of my culinary art at breakfast time. You definitely don’t want to try my oatmeal.”
Dan grinned at him. Garrett usually seemed so sure and confident this show of uncertainty made him more human. “When I get back on my feet, I’ll do you up my best Cajun meal. Meanwhile, if you have coffee, chicory or not, I’ll be okay.”
“Coffee I do. And a pretty damn good job if I do say so. My dad was a coffee connoisseur and taught me how to fix it right when we camped out years ago. I can brew it over a campfire, perk it on the range, or even use one of those confounded machines, so long as it doesn’t sit more than twenty or thirty minutes. Check this out.”
He stooped to set the tray across Dan’s lap and then helped him scoot up and settle his back against a pile of pillows. He hadn’t lied. The toast was not burned, just tawny and crisp. The eggs look well beyond edible and the sausage patties, neatly cut into quarters, emitted a rich aroma that had Dan’s mouthwatering. He tried the coffee first, taking a cautious sip to test the temperature. It was just right, hot but not scalding.
Garrett waited, looking at him expectantly. “Is it okay?”
“Better than okay…pretty damn fine. I could learn to like this life of ease.”
Garrett smiled, something wistful yet exultant in his expression. “I hope you do.”
* * * *
From that point they fell into a kind of routine, gradually growing more comfortable and easy with each other. Mandy helped, always injecting just the right twist of humor when things started to get tense. Still, Dan fretted at his forced immobility and his incapacity to return the sexual favors Garrett bestowed frequently enough to keep his frustration level well under control.
Garrett shrugged it off, until Dan began to wonder if the other man was really attracted to him or not. The first time it had seemed so. Now he began to wonder. It wasn’t the sort of thing he could just come out and ask, however much he might worry, speculate, and debate with himself. Mandy was no help at all with this issue. For all the love and wisdom shining from her amber eyes, such human problems were beyond her ken.
Although the nightmares had not stopped entirely, Dan was able to get some control on them. He didn’t wake up in a screaming, sweating panic now and could usually pull himself out of the dream-horror before he relived the whole scene. While he knew he’d never completely forget the tragedy, this time of forced quiet, peace, and rest was working some healing magic on both his body and his bruised soul.
Days became a week, two, and then three. They made two visits to the local orthopedic expert. Dr. Sidartha was the only such specialist in the southwestern corner of Colorado. He took X-rays and verified the bones were healing well, even the badly shattered thigh.
“Just a couple more weeks and we’ll get those casts off,” he said. “You’ll have to have a brace on your leg for another month or so because the muscles and ligaments are going to heal slower than the bone, but at least you can be mobile again. Come back in two weeks.”
Dan could have sworn it was the longest two weeks of his life. The hours and days finally passed and the wait was over. He swore it was the last time he’d allow Garrett to help him into the wheelchair, wheel him out to the truck, and then do most of the work of getting him into the passenger seat. Being as helpless as an infant did nothing positive for his ego.
Once out of the concrete straitjacket, as he’d dubbed the two casts, Dan didn’t walk out of the doctor’s office after all. They insisted on wheeling him back out. After that, he did stand on his good leg and use a crutch to maneuver himself from the wheelchair into the car almost on his own. Even though his freed arm felt weak and rubbery as hospital Jell-O, he stubbornly accomplished it by himself. Back at Garrett’s house, Dan also hobbled his way into the kitchen. With the brace laced firmly in place, his leg held his weight with just a bit of wobble.
A few days of exercise’ll fix this. At least it damn well better. I’ll be double damned if I’ll stay an invalid the rest of my time here. I’ve got things to do.
* * * *
Once Dan was more or less on his feet, Gar
rett tried to give him some space. He spent a lot of time out in the side of the garage which had been his dad’s workshop. His first task was to spread out all the parts of the shattered motorcycle and see which ones looked like they might be salvageable. Then late at night he went online and searched eBay for sources of parts to replace those that were not. He was able to get quite a few of them, just going ahead and paying the “buy now” price to get them on their way.
They still took meals together, and Dan no longer had his off a tray in the bedroom. They usually ate with little conversation, both of them nursing unasked questions they really didn’t want to have answered. Garrett knew Dan puttered around, used Garrett’s exercise equipment in the rec room downstairs, and read some. He was pretty sure the Cajun was not quite ready or able to tackle a long trip on his own, and for sure the motorcycle was not ready to roll, although in a week or two he’d have a good part of it put back together.
The third day after he got the casts off, Dan asked if Garrett would drive him to the nearest supermarket. “I’d like to do a little cooking in this fine kitchen of yours before I head out of here. If it’s okay with you…”
“Man, you’re more than welcome. You know the limits of my chef skills. We’ve had chuck wagon stew or chili for more suppers than I care to count the last few weeks. I’m sick to death of it and you prob’ly are as well, just too polite to say so. I was hoping you’d complain so I could tell you to cook! And now you’re volunteering? That’s an offer I won’t refuse. Even Mandy is tired of my slop.”
They made a trip to the biggest store in Durango. Dan turned out to be a choosy and careful shopper. Still, they left with the truck bed half full of bags—some of it things Garrett could not even positively identify. Dan grumbled about the lack of critical ingredients such as crawfish, but allowed he could substitute and make do for the dishes he planned. “At least ya got Tabasco,” he said cheerfully. “Like paint for a carpenter, hot pepper sauce can cover up a lot of mistakes.”
Rescued by Love Page 3
