Hard to Hold

by Nicole Edwards

  Rhys helped the man along by grabbing a fistful of T-shirt behind his head and pulling it up and off. Rough hands moved over his skin and he sucked in a breath.

  “Goddamn, I want you,” Wolfe whispered roughly. “So fucking much.”

  “I’m right here.”

  Wolfe suddenly stepped back, his eyes raking over Rhys’s chest, lower, then back to his mouth. “Take the damn clothes off, Sheriff.”

  Rhys realized then that he wasn’t going to be in control here. As much as he wanted to be, there was no dominating Wolfe. The man wouldn’t allow it.

  Not yet, anyway.

  Wolfe raised a hand and pointed to the hallway. “Bedroom.”

  Nope, no way was Rhys going to be able to control how this played out.

  Not that he really gave a shit. Right now, he just wanted Wolfe to touch him.

  Sure, it would’ve been damn near perfect if Amy was there, even if she was simply watching, but Rhys needed this. He needed what only Wolfe could offer him. And Wolfe was right. It would take the edge off. They couldn’t take from Amy, couldn’t bombard her with the need fueling them. They had to take it slow with her, so this…

  This was what they both needed.

  Evidently, Rhys didn’t move fast enough for Wolfe, because the man gripped Rhys’s belt buckle and jerked him forward, the backs of his fingers brushing Rhys’s stomach. He had no choice but to move his feet, following Wolfe as the man walked backwards down the hall and into his bedroom.

  Rhys had never seen the man’s bedroom.

  He didn’t intend to do much looking now, either, because Wolfe was once more kissing him, those long fingers working open Rhys’s belt buckle, then the button on his jeans, and finally the zipper.

  “Boots gotta go,” Wolfe informed him.

  Rhys toed off his boots while Wolfe stepped back and did the same.

  He’d barely managed to get the second one off when Wolfe grabbed him, pulled him forward, then took them both to the bed. Rhys grunted from Wolfe’s weight, but he held on, refusing to let go. He ran his hands beneath Wolfe’s shirt, feeling smooth, warm skin against his palms. It took only a second to get the shirt off, and when he did, Rhys resumed kissing him, holding Wolfe to him while rough fingers twined in Rhys’s hair, pulling hard as Wolfe devoured him.

  Fuck. He was going to detonate if Wolfe kept this up.

  A growl rumbled up from Wolfe’s chest and the sound had Rhys’s dick pulsing, desperate for the man’s touch.

  Rhys was breathing hard, his chest heaving when Wolfe released him, kneeling on the bed and jerking Rhys’s jeans down his hips. Emerald-green eyes met his briefly before Wolfe turned his attention on Rhys’s cock.

  The second Wolfe fisted him, Rhys’s hips jerked up off the bed. “Son of a bitch.”

  “Like that?”

  Rhys liked it so damn much he couldn’t speak. Any word he might’ve said got lodged in his throat and came out as a long, tortured moan.

  “Open your eyes.”

  Rhys’s eyes flew open. He hadn’t even realized he’d shut them.

  “Watch me.” Wolfe stroked him again. “Watch what I do to you.”

  That was a damn near impossible task when Wolfe leaned down and took Rhys’s cock between his lips, his tongue swiping over the swollen head. It took effort to relax, to pull himself back from the edge. He couldn’t come yet. Fuck. They’d just gotten started and he wanted to enjoy this for as long as he could.

  Rhys put one hand behind his head so he could keep his eyes focused on the way Wolfe took him to the root. His other hand slid into the short strands of Wolfe’s hair. He didn’t apply pressure, just held on.

  Sweet jeezus. The man’s mouth… “Aww, fuck… Wolfe…” That perfect fucking mouth was going to do him in.

  Another moan escaped, his hand tightening in Wolfe’s hair as his cock pushed deeper into the sweet haven of Wolfe’s mouth. The man teased and tormented him for long minutes, then abruptly stopped, making Rhys’s head spin.

  He watched as Wolfe got to his feet, effectively shedding his jeans and boxer briefs. Rhys’s gaze instantly homed in on Wolfe’s cock. He remembered the feel of him in his hand, the wide, thick shaft beneath his fingers.

  Wolfe cleared his throat, dragging Rhys’s eyes up to his face. That was when he noticed Wolfe was crooking his finger, motioning Rhys to come to him.

  Summoned.

  Damn.

  Not that Rhys was going to object.

  His abs tightened as he sat up. He scooted to the end of the bed, letting his feet touch the floor as he gripped Wolfe’s giant dick, bringing it to his mouth without hesitation.

  Opening his mouth wide, he wrapped his lips around the broad crest.

  “Oh, fuck yes,” Wolfe hissed, his fingers tangling in Rhys’s hair.

  Unlike Rhys, Wolfe did apply pressure. He pulled him forward, driving his cock deep into Rhys’s throat. It took effort to take him, and he damn sure couldn’t take all of him, but he gave it his all, not stopping until he gagged.

  “Again,” Wolfe demanded. “Take all of me.”

  Rhys made another attempt, which resulted in the same, but that didn’t seem to bother Wolfe. The man began pumping his hips, fucking Rhys’s mouth in a steady rhythm. It wasn’t long before Wolfe pulled back, his cock falling from Rhys’s lips.

  “Don’t move.”

  Wolfe disappeared into what appeared to be a bathroom. He returned with condoms and a pump bottle of what he assumed was lube. Wolfe tossed one condom to Rhys.

  “Put it on me.”

  Wasting no time, Rhys tore it open and rolled the latex over Wolfe’s thick shaft.

  When he was suited up, Wolfe leaned over him and Rhys fell back onto the bed.

  “I’m gonna take you right here, just like this. And I want you to look in my eyes when I fuck you.”

  Rhys had heard rumors that Wolfe liked to watch and be watched. It turned him on, or so he’d heard.

  He understood why because … fuck! … it turned Rhys on, too.

  Wolfe wasn’t gentle when he positioned Rhys, forcing his legs up, Rhys’s knees coming toward his chest. Rhys groaned when Wolfe inserted two lubed fingers in his ass, pushing in deep, retreating. He didn’t think Wolfe meant to be as rough as he was. The tension coiling Wolfe’s muscles tight said the man was holding on by a thread.

  “So fucking hot.”

  Rhys didn’t know what Wolfe was referring to, but he didn’t give a damn. He wanted to feel the man inside him even if the thought briefly terrified him.

  “Ready?”

  Nodding, Rhys fought the urge to close his eyes. Wolfe leaned over him, their faces close. The fingers disappeared and the blunt head of Wolfe’s cock took their place.

  “Relax.”

  Yeah. Easier said than done.

  “Fuck, you’re tight.” Wolfe grunted, his teeth clamped together.

  Rhys reached for Wolfe. He needed more and he was tired of waiting.

  Seconds later, Wolfe was lodged to the hilt inside him, completely still. Rhys breathed through the initial pain, allowing his body to accommodate the intrusion. It wasn’t that he’d never bottomed, but he didn’t usually. It wasn’t his preference.

  Except with Wolfe.

  Rhys knew when it came to Wolfe Caine, he’d take the man any way he could get him.

  Wolfe situated himself so that his feet were on the floor, yet he was practically covering Rhys, thrusting in hard and deep, grunting and groaning. Rhys kept his eyes open, locked with Wolfe’s.

  “Rhys … fuck … you feel so damn good.” Wolfe slammed into him over and over.

  Rhys held on, allowing the sensations to send him soaring higher and higher until he couldn’t take any more.

  Without any friction on his cock, Rhys came harder than he’d ever come in his life, his back bowing, body tensing, a strangled moan rumbling in his throat.

  “Fuck, yes.” Wolfe slammed into him again and again. “Always knew…” Wolfe breathed deeply. “Always
fucking knew it would be this good.” Their eyes met. “With you,” Wolfe hissed, then slammed home twice more before following Rhys right over the edge. “Oh, fuck, yes!”

  The plate crashed against the wall, shattering.

  A glass followed.

  “You stupid bitch. Why can’t you just do what I ask you to do? You’d think after nearly five years of this you’d figure out how to get it right! I’m tired of having to beat some sense into you.”

  Amy stared blankly at the space above his shoulder. She didn’t dare look at him. She didn’t want to provoke him any more. He’d obviously had a bad day and he was taking it out on her. Which was par for the course. If history was to repeat itself, he would take his anger out on her next.

  “Get up!”

  Amy’s eyes shot to his face. “What?”

  He glared at her, his face a mask of rage. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

  Swallowing hard, Amy pushed to her feet. She was trembling; she couldn’t help it.

  He was on his feet in an instant, his hand coming toward her.

  Amy flinched, expecting the blow to land on her face just as it had so many times before. Instead, he grabbed her hair, jerking her toward him. She stumbled, falling, her knees slamming into the tiled floor. Pain, hot and fierce, bolted through her, making her gasp.

  “I said get up!” His voice was getting louder as he yanked her to her feet. “Don’t make me pick you up, goddammit!”

  Amy cried out, trying to move to ease the fire burning in her scalp.

  “The only thing I ask is that you do what I tell you. How hard is that, Amy? You don’t have to work; you don’t have to take care of any fucking brats. You stay at home all goddamn day while I’m out there working my ass off. The least you can do is make sure my dinner is warm when I get home. How can you expect to be my wife? You’re too stupid to be my wife.”

  The tears streaked down her face, but Amy didn’t say a word. She knew better. The one time she’d told him she didn’t want to be his wife, she’d ended up with a broken arm. Since then, the beatings had gotten worse, not better, no matter how much he apologized afterward. He still insisted it was her fault.

  “This is for your own good, Amy. Remember that.”

  Amy jerked awake, sitting up straight.

  She was on the couch, the television on.

  A knock sounded on the door, making her heart leap into her throat.

  “Amy? You in there? It’s me. Reagan.”

  Reagan.

  Oh, God.

  Jumping to her feet, Amy scrubbed her hands over her face, wiping the tears away. She hoped Reagan didn’t notice. With the lights off, maybe she wouldn’t.

  “I’m coming,” she called out, moving fast, the adrenaline from the nightmare still flooding her system.

  Amy stumbled, tripping on the rug beneath the coffee table. Fortunately, she remained upright, her shoulder bumping the wall beside the door. She unlocked the deadbolt, then the knob before pulling the door open.

  “Hey.” Reagan studied her briefly, a mix of confusion and concern registering on her face. “You okay? I heard screaming.”

  Amy quickly looked away, stepping back so Reagan could come inside. “Sorry. I was … uh … watching a movie. I must’ve fallen asleep. You probably heard the television.”

  Reagan glanced at the TV, then back to Amy. “Yeah. Okay.”

  “I hope you weren’t out there long.” Amy closed the door when Reagan dragged her suitcase inside.

  “No, just a minute or two.” Reagan was studying her intensely. “You sure you’re all right? Looks like you were cryin’.”

  Amy nodded. “I’m fine.”

  The sympathy she saw in Reagan’s eyes made her stomach twist. She hadn’t had a friend in so long and now it seemed she had some everywhere she turned. That alone made her want to curl into a ball and sob.

  “If you need to talk about anything,” Reagan prompted, “I’m here.”

  “Thanks.” Wiping her face to keep more tears from falling, Amy pointed toward the hallway. “I … uh … got the guest room set up. As best I could, anyway. I only have a futon, but we can get you a bed if you’d like.” She knew she was talking too fast, but she couldn’t stop herself. Her heart was pounding.

  “A futon works,” Reagan said, looking around the house. “Hell, I’d be happy to sleep on the couch. Or the floor. I’m just grateful you offered. I promise not to stay too long.”

  “Stay as long as you like,” Amy told her. She didn’t care if Reagan wanted to stay forever. Provided Amy could keep the nightmares at bay, she figured she would enjoy the company.

  “You’re too sweet.”

  Amy took a deep breath, tried to calm down. “And I’ll get you my spare key to the house so you can come and go. I’m working for Wolfe and Lynx now, so I’ll be gone before you wake up.”

  Reagan nodded, but Amy didn’t meet her eyes. She could feel the waves of concern coming off of Reagan.

  “Sure.”

  Amy walked toward the hallway. “The … uh … guest room is that way. There’s a bathroom, too. It’s not big, but…”

  “I appreciate this, Amy. I really do.”

  Amy nodded. “Okay. I … uh … I’m just gonna go to bed now.”

  Without waiting for Reagan to say anything more or, God forbid, ask any questions, Amy turned and walked to her bedroom.

  Okay, maybe it was more of a walk/jog.

  Whatever.

  God, she needed to talk to someone, to let some of this out. She knew holding it back wouldn’t help. It was only getting worse. Her fear, her paranoia. The annoying panic attacks. She probably should’ve taken Reagan up on her offer to listen, but Amy knew telling Reagan would only put the woman in danger. She didn’t dare do that.

  No, if she was going to talk to anyone, she would tell someone who could protect themselves against the monster who was haunting her.

  There were only two people she knew who’d be capable of doing that.

  The question was, could she really burden them with that?

  And if she did, would they still be able to look at her the same way?

  15

  __________

  Wolfe woke up pressed up against the sun.

  It took a second for his eyes to focus, for him to realize it wasn’t the damn sun, just Rhys.

  Fuck.

  If they were going to be sleeping in the same bed, he was going to have to get a fan for the room. Between them, they’d generated a significant amount of heat.

  His mind drifted back to last night. Yeah, they’d certainly generated some heat. His cock, already tenting the sheet draped over his legs, was ready for a replay. Glancing over at the clock, Wolfe realized he had fifteen minutes before he had to get in the shower.

  Fifteen minutes was just enough time to...

  Spooning behind Rhys, Wolfe positioned his cock so that he could grind himself against Rhys’s ass, his body hardening, his need growing infinitely stronger.

  The sleeping man shifted, his body moving closer to Wolfe as he mumbled, “Mmm. Mornin’.”

  Wolfe nipped Rhys’s shoulder, his voice thick with sleep as he whispered, “I need to be inside you again.”

  The mere thought of burying his dick inside Rhys’s hot fucking body had precum pooling on the tip.

  Reaching over Rhys’s hips, Wolfe took the man’s rigid erection in his hand, slowly stroking, enjoying the sleepy moans coming from Rhys. “Thinkin’ about me, are ya?”

  “Wolfe…” Rhys’s hips rocked forward and back, his shoulders pressing against Wolfe’s chest. “Feels good.”

  That was an understatement. Everything about this man felt damn near perfect. And this … waking up to Rhys in his bed… It was better than Wolfe had expected.

  “Want me to blow you before or after I fuck you? Because as much as I wanna be inside you right now, I wanna taste you, want you to come down my throat.”

  They groaned in unison.

  “Holy fuck,
” Rhys moaned, his hips pumping, ass grinding against Wolfe’s aching dick. “After.”

  Releasing Rhys’s cock, Wolfe flipped over and grabbed a condom. He rolled the latex on and lathered lube over himself before turning back to find Rhys on his stomach, his hips grinding against the mattress.

  Goddamn, the man was fucking hot.

  Moving over him, Wolfe kissed Rhys’s naked back, running his tongue along the smooth skin and rigid muscle, dragging his lips up to Rhys’s neck. He rubbed his stubble-lined jaw along Rhys’s shoulder, enjoying the warmth beneath him.

  “No foreplay.” It wasn’t a question. Wolfe needed to be inside him right now.

  “No foreplay,” Rhys echoed.

  Within seconds, Wolfe had lodged himself balls deep, the heat of Rhys’s ass enveloping him.

  “Christ,” he breathed, holding himself completely still while his body tightened painfully hard.

  Rhys moaned, his hand coming to rest on top of Wolfe’s, their fingers twining together.

  Wolfe rocked his hips. Rather than race to the finish line, he took his time, relishing the feel of Rhys’s ass as it strangled his dick. A steady tingle started at the base of his spine, but Wolfe willed it back, rocking forward, lodging himself as deep as he could go.

  “Fuck, I could get used to this,” Wolfe whispered, holding himself still for a second before retreating, then pushing in again. Slow … deep… “You feel so damn good.”

  The tingling warning of his impending orgasm intensified. Wolfe increased his pace, his cock tunneling in and out of Rhys’s tight hole, hips punching against Rhys’s ass, while he tightened his fingers around Rhys’s, holding on to the man as he drove himself to completion.

  Wolfe didn’t linger once he was spent. He had something else in mind, something he’d dreamed about last night. Wanting to take care of Rhys, Wolfe immediately pulled out, then flipped Rhys onto his back before sucking the man’s steel-hard cock into his mouth. This time he didn’t take his time; he wanted Rhys to come.

  Rhys’s fingers twined in his hair like they’d done last night, but this time the man wasn’t gentle. He pulled Wolfe’s hair, rough groans echoing in the dark room as he fucked Wolfe’s mouth.