Dreamspinner Press Year Nine Greatest Hits

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Dreamspinner Press Year Nine Greatest Hits Page 29

by Michael Murphy


  “I don’t want the day to end,” Tide admitted.

  “Me either. It’s been a huge day.”

  “It has. Come back to my place so we can make love?”

  “I’d like that. Very much.”

  Tide had half thought Lance would refuse and was so pleased he hadn’t.

  They headed for his place. Lance window-shopped as they walked, chattering like a little bird. So many contradictions, his boy. Tide wanted to learn about each and every one.

  It didn’t take them long to get back, and he drew Lance in. He was booked to work for Lance for the rest of the week. The photographer would understand if he was a little late. And Tyrone and Bran would be equally understanding if the photographer himself was late.

  It was win-win.

  Chapter Seven

  LANCE HAD made love to Tide for hours. Hours. It had been sweet and slow and lazy and slightly tipsy from wine. Now he was a little hungover from sex and grape and lack of sleep, and it was perfect.

  They’d made it back to his place before Tyrone and Bran arrived, and now Tide was prowling around, looking at all his things.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee?” Lance offered.

  “No, I want a cup of Lance.” Tide drew him in, bringing their mouths together.

  He moaned and pressed closer, lips open, a spike of need settling in his balls. Tide’s tongue parted his lips and pressed inside. He needed to focus, to get in work mode. Not be turned on.

  He could feel the heat of Tide’s body, the press of Tide’s cock as it rose against him. There was no way Tide could want him again. But the evidence of it was right there against his belly.

  “You’ll make me hard, Tide.”

  “I don’t have a problem with that.” No, in fact, Tide looked pleased by the idea.

  “I have to work and you guys are so hot anyway.”

  “So you’re going to be hard anyway. I’m just giving you a head start.”

  He tried to blow it off, chuckle, and back away. Tide didn’t let him go, though, fingers sliding on his skin.

  “Coffee….” He couldn’t stop moving, responding to Tide.

  “Who needs coffee when you have this?” Tide rubbed them together.

  A knock came at the door and he jumped. “They’re here.”

  “Mmmhmm. They are.”

  “I’ll get the door.” No erection. None. No. He kept repeating it even if it didn’t seem to make a difference.

  “Is it unlocked?” Tide asked. “You could just call to them to come in.”

  “I… I’m hard, Tide.”

  “They’ve seen hard men before. They are hard men.” Tide squeezed Lance’s cock, called out. “Come in, boys!”

  Tyrone and Bran came in, looking hot and sexy. Lance pulled away, cheeks heating, and Bran stopped and stared.

  “Oh. Look at you,” murmured Tyrone. “Look at the two of you.” Tyrone chuckled, coming in to hug Tide and then Lance.

  Oh God. Oh God. They knew.

  Bran bounced. “Oh, you hooked up. Rock on!”

  “You can’t keep anything from these two,” Tide noted.

  “Would… would you like a cup of coffee?” Lance offered.

  “No, thank you. If there’s water available?”

  “Of course. Sure. I’ll grab you some.” His nerves were buzzing.

  “I’ll come help.” Bran joined him, all smiles.

  “Thanks.” He didn’t know what to do, and he was desperate to get behind the camera.

  “Where do you keep the bottled water, honey?” Bran asked gently.

  “In the fridge.” There wasn’t a lot in the fridge besides water, Cokes, beer, milk and mustard.

  “I take it you don’t cook?” Bran asked.

  “No. No. I order in.”

  “Every meal?” Bran sounded kind of shocked.

  “I eat cereal for breakfast.”

  That had Bran giggling.

  “What?” There was a cabinet with Pop-Tarts and cold cereal and Cheetos. It was a thing.

  “I like you, honey. I like you a lot. Besides”—Bran turned and looked over to where Tide and Tyrone were standing close together, talking—“you’re good for Tide.”

  “We’re just… new.” He made a pot of coffee, pulled out four bottles of water.

  “Yeah. Being new is fun.” Bran gazed out in space for a moment, and then he grinned. “There’s great things about not being new, too, though.”

  Lance nodded, but he didn’t know exactly what he was expected to say.

  Bran grabbed the waters. “You work out? You should come to the gym sometime and we could do it together.”

  “I don’t, no. I’m not a member anywhere.” Did he look out of shape?

  “Oh, you should come to the gym Master Tyrone owns with Tide and a few other guys. We can hang out, work out, all that good stuff.”

  “He owns a gym?” Oh man. Tide was totally out of his league.

  “It’s a collective. A bunch of Doms own it.”

  “Neat.” Wow.

  “It is. They’re studs. Especially Master Tyrone.” Bran looked back at Tyrone, stars in his eyes.

  Lance nodded, poured himself a cup of strong coffee. “You guys are amazing.”

  “I’ve got nothing on the two of them.”

  Was Bran serious? He was stunning. And if Bran felt like he was less than Tyrone and Tide, what would they think of him?

  Bran turned to him and grinned. “You’re not so bad yourself, Lance. It’s hardly surprising Master Tide is into you.”

  “Yeah. I’m just the photog. Are you guys ready to get to work?”

  “Just the photog? You’re the one who makes all the magic happen!” Bran insisted.

  He chuckled, cheeks heating as he ducked his head. Bran gave him a grin and took the water bottles over to Tide and Tyrone.

  Lance drank his coffee, poured a second cup, and grabbed his camera. Work. He had to get to work.

  “How do you want us?” Tide asked.

  “I think today I’ll work on the close-up shots. Nothing too intense. Mostly touching.”

  Bran wriggled his ass. “Touching. Mmm, I like touching.”

  “If you guys could just move slowly and I’ll ask you to stop if I need you to.”

  “Like we’re going in slow motion?” Bran asked, moving like he’d been slowed down.

  “Not exaggerated, just a little slower than usual.”

  Bran laughed softly. “I know, honey. I was teasing you.”

  Lance picked up his macro lens and pulled down the dark brown backdrop.

  “Your skin looks beautiful against that backdrop,” Tyrone told Bran.

  “Thank you, Master.” Bran flexed, flushed.

  Tyrone swatted Bran’s ass. “Cheeky.”

  “Yes, Master.” Bran leaned forward, playful.

  “Oh, you want another, do you?” Tyrone obliged, taking his time to aim, to swing, to swat.

  “Mmm.” Bran leaned forward and Lance started shooting.

  Tide leaned against Tyrone and watched him slowly spank Bran, Tide leaving occasional kisses on Tyrone’s shoulders. Their skin contrasted so beautifully. God, Lance wished he was that fine.

  Tide leaned in and rubbed his cheek against Tyrone’s shoulder. Lance tightened the focus, got a couple of great shots. God. Beautiful. Leaning back, Tyrone turned his head and took Tide’s mouth. A spike of jealousy hit Lance and he tamped it down. He was a fling, an affair. These three men had a deep connection.

  “Oh God, Masters, you’re gorgeous together.” Bran moaned, watching the two big men kiss.

  They were. Perfect.

  Lance snapped a picture of Bran’s face, the look of two hands on Bran’s ass.

  The kiss ended and Tide looked up, looked right at him through the lens. Thank God Tide couldn’t see him. Not really.

  “When you’ve finished taking your pictures, you should join us, Lance.”

  “Oh.” He shook his head, focusing on his job.

  “We
’d make beautiful pictures together, the four of us.”

  “You don’t need me for that.” Lance knew that he was the one who didn’t belong.

  “Yes, I do.” Tide was looking right at him again.

  Lance walked around, ignoring Tide, focusing on work.

  “He’s cute,” Tyrone said.

  “He’s gorgeous,” countered Tide.

  “Is he ignoring you?” Tyrone said. “You may have to discipline him.”

  “Not for working. But when he’s done, it’ll be a different story.”

  No. No, Lance wasn’t listening. Working. Work. King.

  “What are you doing after the shoot?” Tyrone asked.

  “We haven’t made specific plans yet, but I’d like to see all that beautiful skin again.” Tide looked right at Lance as he said it.

  “We’re working,” Lance pointed out.

  “We are now, Lance, but afterward….” Tide waggled his eyebrows.

  “Working.” God, Tide made him want.

  “At the moment. You won’t be for long.”

  He didn’t have an answer to that. He thought he’d just ask Tide to go once they were done shooting, let him focus on work.

  For the rest of the shoot, Tide watched him.

  Finally, Lance had taken all the images he needed and the coffeepot was calling his name again. “Great work, guys.”

  “Cool.”

  Bran and Tyrone began kissing and rubbing, and Tide grinned, then headed right for him. He hid in the little kitchenette, poured a cup of coffee. Tide followed him, standing behind him. The heat poured off Tide.

  “Got some good images today,” Lance offered by way of conversation.

  “Can you show me?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, sure.” He grabbed his camera and started monkeying, showing one amazing image after another.

  “Wow. Holy shit, darling, these are stunning.”

  “Thanks. Thanks a lot.” Oh, that felt good.

  “Truly amazing. You are something special.”

  The others came into the small space, Tyrone with a hand on Bran’s ass. “Can we see?” Bran asked.

  “Sure. Of course.”

  Bran bounced and snuggled in close. “Oh. My. God. We are gorgeous!”

  “You are. All three of you.” The man’s joy was undeniable, irresistible.

  Bran nodded and Tyrone swatted his ass. “Cheeky boy.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “I’ll make sure and send you cleaned-up files once I’m done.”

  “You rock.” Bran hugged him, a full-body press against his.

  “Th-thank you.” Oh. Oh weird. He could feel Bran’s erection and everything.

  Then he was given a smile and a kiss, right on the mouth. His eyes flew open and he made a little peeping noise. Bran rubbed their noses together and went back to looking at his pictures. Lance was getting hard, heart starting to pound.

  Tide dropped a hand onto his shoulder, palm rubbing over the ball of the joint. A soft sound left him. Those muscles got so sore.

  “You okay?” Tide asked, thumb rubbing hard.

  “Uh… uh-huh.” His knees were going to give out.

  “You should have told me you were in pain.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Master Tide, should I get the massage table?” Bran made him blink.

  “Good idea, boy.” Tide kept working his muscles.

  “I…. You guys should go have lunch. I have to….” Tide hit a tender spot and he cried out. “Fuck!”

  “Table, now,” Tide barked.

  Bran and Tyrone brought it out to the middle of the main room. Then Bran tugged his T-shirt, pulling it off so Tide could get to his skin.

  “I’m okay. I am,” he insisted as Tide helped him up onto the massage table and slipped his glasses off. “Just tender.”

  “You have oil anywhere we can use, Lance?” Even without the oil, Tide’s fingers felt amazing.

  “Uh… like baby oil?” he asked.

  “Exactly.”

  “If you tell me where it is, I can get it for you,” Bran offered.

  “Bathroom under the sink.” His cheeks heated. “I can get it, though. You don’t have to.”

  “Honey, I don’t mind. You just lie there and let Master Tide take care of you,” Bran insisted.

  “I’m okay. It’s just… an old thing. It gets sore. No big.”

  Master Tyrone snorted. “Everything about our boys is big, important.”

  “That’s right.” Tide dug in harder as Bran ran off in the direction of his bathroom. “What did you do to your shoulder, boy?”

  “Just an accident.”

  Bran came back with the oil, and Tide took it, pouring it onto his back. “What kind of accident?”

  “Gymnastics. I competed in middle school and for a little bit of high school.” He’d done it on the horse, lost what was at least a good scholarship opportunity and a lot of fun.

  “Did it end your gymnastics career?” Tide asked, fingers sliding gently.

  “Oh yeah. Four months in traction.”

  “Damn.” Tide dug in a little harder.

  “Oh, honey!” Bran gave him a hug around his head.

  “It was a long time ago. It’s not like I was going to be an Olympian.”

  “How do you know?” Tide asked. “You might have.”

  “No way. I was mediocre. Some of those guys would blow your mind with talent.”

  Tide gave him a long look. “Well, as long as you don’t think the same thing about your photography, I’ll bow to your expertise.”

  “I’m a way better photographer.” It was the one thing Lance knew he was pretty good at.

  “You’re an amazing photographer,” Tide countered.

  Bran nodded vigorously. “You are! You rock, honey.”

  “Indeed. Come on, Bran. I want to show you the view from the balcony.” Tyrone took Bran’s arm and drew him away.

  Tide chuckled. “That was subtle.”

  “Shut up.” Tyrone winked over his shoulder.

  Tide only laughed and kept working on Lance’s back, making him melt into the table. He barely even heard the door to the balcony closing behind Tyrone and Bran.

  “You can’t hide soreness from me, boy. Your pain belongs to me,” Tide told him.

  He didn’t even know what that meant.

  “So next time you’re hurting, you’ll tell me, right?”

  “I just…. It’s not important. Just soreness.”

  Tide grumbled and turned him over, pressing their foreheads together a moment, then backing off a bit to stare into his eyes. “You are important. Your pain is important.”

  “Uh-huh….” He was supposed to be working, wasn’t he?

  “I mean it. If you’re sore again, you need to tell me.”

  “It’s always a little sore,” Lance admitted.

  “Then I’ll have to give you lots of massages.”

  Tide eased him back onto his belly once more and his shoulder was taken in hand again, Tide’s fingers pushing in. It felt so good it almost hurt. He swallowed hard, his moan undeniable.

  “Just let go, Lance.”

  “We’ve got people here.” God, that felt right.

  “They’re making out on your balcony. They don’t care what we get up to.”

  “Making out?” That made him chuckle. His neighbors would like that.

  “If they aren’t at least kissing, I’ll eat a frog.”

  Lance screwed up his features. “I would not kiss you with frog foam on your lips.”

  “You wouldn’t? Damn. I’d kiss you with frog foam on your lips.”

  Lance started giggling. “One of us needs to not be high.”

  “Don’t worry, nobody is eating a frog, those two are doing far more than kissing.” Tide began to work the muscles on the rest of his back, easing him all over.

  Oh God. So good. He’d never had a massage like this. It went on and on, Tide totally liquefying him. He sighed softly, melted to the bone
.

  “Better, huh?” Tide asked.

  “Uh-huh. So much.” It was like being drunk, but better.

  “Good.” Tide kept touching, but it was less massage and more sensual now.

  “Uh-huh.” He heard the door open again, but he couldn’t tense. There was no tension in him.

  “You ready to get back to work, or should we pick this back up tomorrow?” Tide asked him.

  “I….” Come on. Come on, Lance. Professional.

  Tide kissed the back of his neck and murmured quietly, “No one will be upset if you want to spend the afternoon with me.”

  “Promise?”

  “I swear.”

  Straightening, Tide turned to his friends. “I think Lance is done for the day, guys. Want to come back tomorrow?”

  “Sure, we’re good with that.”

  Tyrone grinned. “I had the most delicious idea while we were out on the balcony, and this will give me a chance to implement it.”

  “Oh hell yeah.” Tide sounded altogether too pleased.

  He heard a gentle kiss and saw Tide and Tyrone hug out of the corner of his eyes. “Have fun,” Tide said. “Don’t torture him too badly.”

  “I promise I won’t leave any marks that might show tomorrow.”

  “Good man.”

  Lance just shivered, body tightening.

  Tide rested a hand in the small of his back, solid and sure as Tyrone and Bran quickly changed and headed out. The door closing behind them seemed loud.

  “I feel like I should apologize.”

  “For what?” Tide sounded honestly surprised.

  “I don’t know. Asking them to leave.”

  “You didn’t. I did.” Tide started touching him again, fingers warm and firm.

  The touches were addictive. Perfect. And he wanted more.

  Tide pressed his hands beneath Lance’s belly and undid the button and zipper of his jeans before drawing them down along with his underwear. He was going to protest, but Tyrone and Bran had already gone and it was just him and Tide and he really didn’t want to. So he didn’t. More baby oil poured onto his ass, Tide working it into his skin, making his ass burn. He spread, the tiniest bit, his cock firming.

  “Mmm. Oh yeah, darling.” Tide’s finger slid along his crack, dipping between his thighs to rub his hole.

 

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