She’s Got Balls

by Mia Watts

  “Actually, I don’t sleep like a rock,” Vin said.

  Chris’ eyes widened, his heart kicked up in crazy tempo, and his ears rang with the realization that Vin had heard everything, and well enough to comment on the few words Chris had spoken. “Shit.”

  Vin sat by Chris’ hip in dark silhouette.

  Two nights on duty and Chris’ partner felt he had to cuff Chris in order to avoid sexual harassment in his sleep. That didn’t bode well. In fact, it sucked big and hairy.

  “So now what? You going to leave me chained up all night to protect your modesty?” Chris asked.

  Vin nodded. “Yeah, you’ll be chained up all night.” He stretched, reaching for something just out of Chris’ sight, and with a click, soft yellow lamp light filled the room.

  Chris sucked in a sharp breath. Vin was still naked. And holy fucking missile silos, Vin was hard.

  Vin reached behind him and dropped the orange makeup kit on Chris’ sheeted stomach. He arched a brow and pulled out the box of condoms and lube the agency boys and thrown in with Chris’ wardrobe.

  His stomach twisted in knots. Did Vin pull them out in invitation or condemnation? “You already knew about those things. You saw the gag gifts before I did.”

  Vin’s expression turned inscrutable. He rested his hands lightly on his massive thighs and seemed to wait for Chris to explain.

  Chris licked his lips nervously. He tested the cuffs again. They rattled in the silence between them.

  “You came into my room,” Vin said, after a moment.

  “Couldn’t sleep.”

  “Why did you come into my room?”

  “I thought you’d be awake and I needed to tell you something about the case. I swear,” Chris explained. Foreboding etched worry in his belly.

  Vin folded his arms across his chest and tucked his chin.

  “I, uh-fuck man, not like this. At least allow me some dignity when I’m talking to you.” Annoyance gave Chris something to hang on to. To fight with.

  “I’m waiting. Can’t image how the case has anything to do with touching me or commenting on my body.”

  Chris searched his brain for an explanation that would make the truth more palatable to Vin. His silence answered guiltily for him.

  “I thought about it after you left. Couldn’t come up with anything to explain it, case or no case, that didn’t sound sexual. I tried, Tarp. I tried to think of any possible meaning to that one, and couldn’t do it. S’why I’m here. Trying to get the truth. You gonna give it?” Vin asked.

  Chris huffed. “Probably not anything you’re going to like.”

  “I’m awake. What did you have to say?”

  “We can talk about this in the morning. Clearer minds, fresh start, all that,” Chris hedged. “And you can rest assured that I won’t lay a hand on you.”

  “You got me up. Let’s hear it.”

  “Fine.” He rolled his eyes. He yanked on the cuffs again. “Seriously?” he asked, holding up his wrists and delaying the inevitable.

  When Vin didn’t move or alter his expression in anyway, Chris licked his dry lips one last time before confessing. “I’m gay. As my partner, I though you should know that before we play the happy couple and start making out again.”

  “Why is being gay a problem?” Vin asked, flatly.

  “Wow. You just aren’t going to make this easy for me, are you?”

  “No.”

  “Of course not. It wouldn’t be a problem, never has been a problem with any agent I’ve had to team up with for regular cases. This may be my first undercover gig, but it’s not my first partnership. It’s a problem now because I’m way too attracted to you and it pisses me off.”

  “Ignore it,” Vin said. His expression shifted thoughtfully.

  “I would fucking ignore it if you didn’t keep deep-throating my tonsils and walking around like a half-naked god, leaving me with the mother of all hard-ons. Capisce?”

  “Capisco,” Vin answered back that he understood. “You want my ass.”

  “It’s a great ass,” Chris agreed, lamely. And he was fairly certain Vin was about to hand him his.

  “Haven’t seen much of it.”

  “Take my word for it.”

  Vin leaned forward, bracing himself on his hands at each side of Chris’ chest. “I will.”

  “And now you’ll uncuff me?” Chris asked.

  “No.” Vin quirked a smile. His cool blue gaze flitted over Chris’ face thoughtfully. “Why did you tell me to stop when I kissed you in front of the house?”

  “Have you ever tried tucking your cock and then getting a hard on? Just about fucking killed me.”

  “Thought you’d stop me tonight.”

  “Wasn’t tucked,” Chris said, his voice hitching. His gaze slid to Vin’s mouth. “Fuck. You going to quit asking me questions anytime soon? It’s the middle of the night, for fuck’s sake.”

  “Inhibitions retreat when fatigued.”

  “Who are you trying to un-inhibit? Me or you?” Chris asked. The cuffs were becoming a tired addition to the conversation. Vin either needed to let him go or tell him what the fuck he wanted already. Hadn’t he already confessed the worst of it?

  As though in slow motion, Vin lowered his head. Chris’ breath caught. Was Vin going to explore his sexuality on the confirmed gay man? He didn’t look to be teasing. Aside from the furry handcuffs anyway.

  The heat of Vin’s breath teased Chris’ lips and he relaxed his mouth to take whatever Vin decided to bestow. God, Vin was a fucking wet dream. Faraway, up close, on his damn head, Chris suspected.

  Vin sweetly molded their lips together.

  Chris groaned, lost in the warm stubbly slide of parted lips on parted lips through heated gasps. Their tongues touched almost timidly before another pillowy testing of their mouths against one another. When Vin finally broke the kiss and sat up, Chris felt almost as light-headed as he had last time, when Vin had all but devoured his mouth.

  “Fuck,” Chris whispered. “You’re clearly into torture.”

  “You liked that, did you?”

  He couldn’t read Vin. What did the kiss hope to accomplish and why the fuck was Vin tormenting him. If he so much as looked at the tented sheet, Vin would know exactly what effect he had on Chris. As though there were any question. It’s not like Chris could reject Vin’s experimentalism.

  “Not an observant detective, are you?” Chris mocked. His good humor flagged.

  Vin’s brows rose. He’d seen that look before. Right before Vin had taken the challenge to kiss him in front of the neighborhood. Fuck. Note to self: never fucking challenge Vin and think you can save face.

  Vin laid his palm on Chris’ chest. He dragged it down, knocking off the bag of gag gifts and taking the sheet lower. He stopped at his belly. The head of Chris’ cock touched the back of Vin’s hand and left a drop of moisture.

  Inscrutable, he stared at Chris for a long time. Chris was in agony to know what he thought, or to break the fucking cuffs and make Vin touch his throbbing cock.

  Chris clamped his jaw. He wouldn’t play this game of cat and mouse, waiting for the physical torment just to see what Vin would do next. Chris wasn’t that guy. He made things happen, he didn’t wait for them to happen.

  In a show of defiance, he kicked off his sheet, baring himself. They both knew how his body reacted to Vin’s kiss, his touch. Chris lifted his hips, displaying himself unselfconsciously.

  “This,” Chris taunted, “is what’s called an erect penis.”

  Vin hissed sharply through parted lips.

  Chris’ cock dripped pre-cum. Each pulse beat visible in the slight lift and fall of his engorged shaft. Bared and stretched, Chris wanted Vin to use him, satisfy them both.

  “Are you going to use it, or memorize it for posterity?” Chris asked.

  An enigmatic smile tugged a sexy smile from Vin. His eyes twinkled as they narrowed in some unknown amusement. “Use it?”

  His husky voice shot strait to Ch
ris balls. He watched in heady anticipation as Vin finally touched him. His palm rubbed up the underside of Chris cock.

  Horror flashed like cold sweat. “Oh shit!” Chris’ balls tightened, sharply. He tried to hold back the tide, but couldn’t. Cum streaked up his cock and spilled in hot spurts over his chest and Vin’s hand. Chris’ stuttered groan punctuated each milky jet.

  Vin lifted his hand, looking at the spay that glistened on his fingers. “That was easy.”

  “Fuck! No, wait, that never happens. I swear.”

  “Be right back,” Vin said. He stood and Chris caught sight of Vin’s cock, jutting forward as he walked away.

  “What about you?” Chris asked, twisting in the furry cuffs to reach the enticing rigidity of male flesh. God, he wanted to taste it so bad.

  “What about me?” he said as though the thought hadn’t occurred to him.

  “Where are you going?” Chris yelled so Vin could hear him from the bedroom. Fucking giant had fucking left the fucking room with him still fucking cuffed to the fucking bed.

  Vin stepped back into the room and dropped a warm, wet washcloth on Chris’ chest. He wiped him down, then folded up the cloth and tossed it onto the lamp table.

  “You can’t leave me cuffed all night,” Chris said.

  “You sure?”

  “Vincent. Don’t fucking leave me cuffed all night, man.”

  Vin’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “What was that, rookie?”

  “You heard me.” Chris hated this game. Who knew the Jolly Green Giant was a cock-tease with a sadistic twist?

  For a moment Vin stilled, then with a sudden burst of motion, he planted his hands on either side of Chris’ head and kissed him. His hot, muscled body grazed his, turgid cock prodding Chris’ abdomen as he climbed over and dropped down next to him on the bed.

  Chris caught Vin’s lip with his teeth, pulling when Vin tried to retreat.

  “Ow,” Vin muttered, sounding pissed.

  He kissed Chris hard, punishingly, licking against his teeth until Chris couldn’t resist him. It became a dance of dominance with lips, breath and tongues as weapons. Prone, with Vin having leverage and advantage, Chris fought a losing battle. The room spun and his ears rang. His body responded with a familiar ache.

  Oh, God, I want him.

  Vin brought him to life. His nerves, his skin awakened in excruciatingly raw newness with passion Chris hadn’t felt for any other lover. Chris wanted to explore him, touch him, taste every last inch.

  Damn cuffs have to go.

  Vin combed his fingers through Chris’ hair, trailed over his cheeks. He nipped at Chris’ lips. Harder than playfulness, but not hard enough to hurt, it fired Chris’ blood with desperation. Vin quit tormenting his lips, suddenly dipping to suck his neck, then close his teeth sharply on Chris’ collarbone while he smoothed his hands up his arms.

  Curling his fingers, he gently scored Chris’ flesh as he brought them back down and farther to roll unobstructed nipples. Chris bucked. Soul-deep, his groan ripped from him like the waking cry of a dead man.

  “I want to touch you,” Chris pleaded on ragged gasps.

  Vin laughed, a low rumbling chuckle that made Chris’ cock weep. “I know.”

  He ran his hands over Chris’ stretched torso, temporarily turning his ticklish sides into untried sensual zones.

  “Please.”

  “Shut up. I’m busy.” Vin detoured, not missing an inch of Chris’ chest or shoulders with his curious hands. Sometimes he alternated pressured fingertips, soft caresses, gentle kneading with the sharp edge of his nails.

  Chris twisted against the cuffs. His voice left him in an open-mouthed cry when Vin feasted on his nipple, taking and pulling it between his teeth. Oh, God, rough sex had never felt so good.

  Vin ventured lower. He grasped Chris’ cock and the swift, firm pumping made Chris senseless with need. Eyes rolled back, he was vaguely cognizant of more than hands, lips, teeth and cock toward the sublime pleasure of release, he barely noticed when cool gel touched his ass.

  One finger then two plied him, rhythmically fucking Chris in sync with his tugging cock.

  “Oh, God! Oh my fucking-I’m gonna fucking cum.”

  Vin’s wicked chuckle closed the deal, and for the second time, Chris spilled. His hips jerked off the bed. His body clenched on Vin’s thick fingers and Chris slid headlong into shouting, thrusting bliss.

  Chris melted back. Vin removed his fingers and continued to milk every ounce from Chris’ cock. Distant ripping reached his ears. Delayed awareness shortened the two-second gap between recognition of tearing condom wrapper and Vin pushing Chris’s knees against his butt.

  “My turn, rookie.”

  Sudden hilt-driving cock and ass-slapping balls brought Chris groaning back to life. Vin rammed forward, grunting at full entry. He slid almost all the way out while Chris’ body shamelessly tried to hold its prize. The loss didn’t last long. Vin slammed forward and drew out slower, grazing Chris’ prostate with every well-aimed thrust.

  Chris could barely keep up. Bombarded with sensations and lust, he hung on to what he knew. Vin-sexy, silent, maniac-in-bed detective-fucked his needy body perfectly. Didn’t he do anything badly?

  Vin’s cock seemed to swell inside him. Chris wrapped his fingers around the headboard slats, keeping his body steady when Vin’s need took on a demanding pace. Like Chris’, Vin’s body gleamed in the lamp light from their frenzied coupling.

  “Harder,” Chris moaned.

  Vin slammed into him, their bodies grinding in the gray area between pleasure and delicious pain. With a violent shout Chris felt to his bones, Vin threw his head back and fucked through the tide of orgasm as though he were raging against the powerful storm.

  Chris stared in dazed wonder. The image of his lover, taut, glistening, his eyes sealed and lips curled back at the moment of orgasm, would be imprinted on his memories forever.

  Several shuddering thrusts later, Vin’s head sagged forward. Their labored breathing rasped together in sawing fashion, like mystical lovers pumping on one another, in their own right.

  Wordlessly, Vin pulled out. He snatched the wet washcloth and cleaned Chris’ chest and abdomen, then carefully swiped Chris’ cock and ass. A lover’s gesture or consideration, surely.

  Chris didn’t know whether to smile or laugh or question what had just happened, so he said nothing when Vin got up and went to the bathroom. Water ran in the next room and whooshed from a wrung cloth a few times, then it shut off. Vin came back clean and gloriously naked. He also made another cleaning pass on Chris’ body before tossing the cloth to the table.

  Chris waited for Vin to say something.

  Could be overwhelmed. That was fucking amazing!

  Maybe Vin thought so too. The longer he took, the less Chris felt like smiling.

  Vin fished inside the bag and pulled out a small key ring. He unlocked the cuffs. Chris winced as he lowered his arms and rubbed the tired muscles. He had a feeling he’d be sore in more places than that tomorrow…today. Whatever.

  He’d just about given up hope of conversation when Vin sat by his hip. He leaned over like he had before, but this time Chris sank his fingers into Vin’s hair and pulled him down. Vin let himself be taken, kissing Chris back in soft sucking caresses.

  He took hold of Chris’ wrists and forced them back onto the pillow.

  “What?” Chris’ brow furrowed.

  Vin sealed a final kiss on his lips. “Good night.” He reached for the lamp and plunged them into darkness.

  “What the fuck?” Chris called out, groping for Vin with aching arms.

  “Might not suck being tied to a rookie after all,” Vin said, easily avoiding him and walking to the door.

  Chapter Five

  Chris awoke to the smell of sausage. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, wondering how he could have drifted off after Vin’s cutting goodnight. The red welts on his wrists, rug-burn-fur burn-reminded him with cock-thickening clarity.

&nbs
p; “Fuck you, Frankenstein,” he muttered sleepily.

  Dragging himself out of bed, he showered and pulled on Vin’s sweats. Rich breakfast sausage, butter, and coffee crumbled his stubborn resistance and Chris sullenly went to the kitchen.

  “Morning,” Vin said, holding out a coffee mug.

  Chris reached for it, but Vin grabbed his forearm out of nowhere, a scowl on his face. Shit, morning after regrets?

  “From the cuffs?” Vin rotated Chris’ arm, studying the fur-burn.

  “Matching pair,” Chris said, lifting his other hand for Vin to see.

  “Damn. I’m sorry.” He tenderly placed a kiss on the inside of both wrists.

  “I’ll wear long sleeves today,” Chris said past the tightness in his throat. A kiss the next morning. That meant something, right?

  Chris sipped the strong brew. Cream, no sugar. He’d remembered.

  Vin flipped the last pancake out of the skillet and handed him the plate, along with a container of syrup. Chris’ spirits rose as he took it to the table and discovered an impressive array of breakfast food. Pancakes and syrup, sure, but sausage, scrambled eggs with onions, tomatoes, green peppers, along with butter, hash browns, and biscuits with sausage gravy, cut melon and fresh strawberries.

  “I got carried away,” Vin said, shrugging. He took a seat and motioned for Chris to join him.

  “You cook?” Chris asked, incredulously.

  “Dad was a chef.”

  Chris dropped into his seat. A blush warmed his cheeks. “You can cook and you ate re-warmed ramen, mac and cheese, and canned fruit cocktail?”

  Amusement crinkled Vin’s eyes.

  “Why the fuck didn’t you say anything?” And why the fuck had he devoured every bite of it and thanked Chris like it had been appreciated?

  “It was good.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” Chris said.

  Vin passed him the hash browns. A smile softened his lips. “You made it for me.”

  He said it like it the answer should have been obvious. Chris would have got up from the table to kiss those lips if things had ended differently last night. Instead, he sat confused, humbled and shocked as all hell.

  “Eat,” Vin admonished.