by BA Tortuga
Still, Neil had to wonder how his sweet would feel about Canterbury. Or York. Edinburgh.
“Anywhere.” Paddy’s fingers touched his wrist, just barely, and then Paddy melted back into the crowd of thoughts, curious, looking, watching.
It should have shocked him, that Paddy could do that. Perhaps it had, the first time Paddy had picked another’s thoughts out of his head, wanting to know why Neil was craving eel pie.
Neil loathed eel pie.
Paddy had since learned to separate the thoughts, just as he did. His sweet was a smart one, so quick to catch on. It was the oddest thing, though. Paddy could only hear through him; it was all about him, somehow. Chuckling, he reached over to stroke Paddy’s belly. His very own receiver.
“Mmm.” Paddy smiled at him, eyes just twinkling. “Do you know what fun I could have with one of those chestnut cart dealies?”
“I do, actually.” He’d heard all about it in Paddy’s mind the night they had roasted chestnuts from a cart near the British Museum. Paddy had loved Russell Square, with the big, stately hotel and the park where tourists took pictures of squirrels, of all things.
That just made Paddy smile all the harder, pure joy pouring from him. “We should go see the mummies again.”
“We should. The bog man is rather fascinating too, hmm?” The museum had made Paddy bounce, which Neil thought was the most delightful thing.
“The bog man. The statues. The whole thing, Neil. It’s like magic.” Paddy loved the jewels and the bronze and the marble and the hieroglyphs—Neil could see them swirling, making insane patterns.
“Then we’ll go again today.” Why not? Before they moved on. They would wait out the morning rush at a café and then go in on the Tube.
“The Tube.” That fascinated and terrified Paddy, all at once. “Cool.”
“Indeed. I know. You think of all of the ways bad things can happen, hmm?” He stroked Paddy’s belly, drawing little patterns.
“I can’t help it.” Of course he couldn’t. After all, that was what Paddy had studied to do for years—invent ways to make things happen.
“I never thought you should help it, love.” Rising up, Neil leaned on one elbow, smiling down.
Paddy’s thoughts scattered, and Neil could see himself, suddenly, lovely and amazing and fine. Still, smiling, he bent and took a kiss, letting Paddy see how sweet his smile was, how much Neil adored him. Paddy had become his world, somehow. Paddy moaned into his lips, tongue sneaking out to lap at him.
“Mmm.” Sweet. Hot. Far better than caffeine to wake up on.
Paddy’s laughter tasted good, tickling his lips. “Paddy in a cup.”
“With cream. Whipped, not clotted.”
Oh yes. He could have Paddy with whipped cream. Gracious. What a pleasant idea. Oh, Paddy liked that—liked the idea of dabbing the cream between them, tongues licking them clean. Neil put it on his list of Things to Do and concentrated on the now, kissing Paddy harder, pushing him on his back again. That smooth skin was so warm, so good.
Fingers stroked the lines beside his eyes, his cheekbones, Paddy’s fingers curious and questioning, mapping him out. Loving the tiny touches, Neil pressed his cheek to Paddy’s hand. God, it felt good to focus on Paddy, only his Paddy, letting everything else fall away.
Neil. Neil. Neil. The chant echoed, over and over, Paddy singing it inside, like a prayer. Like a worried prayer.
“Shh. We’re fine, sweet. Just fine.” Cupping the back of Paddy’s head, Neil took another kiss. Then another.
Those lips opened up to him, swollen and soft, following him like it was a dance. They kissed long and lazily, both of them turning a bit to hold on, hands sliding on skin. The bed felt soft and good beneath them, the sounds of their neighbors moving about muted and blurred. Paddy stroked his stomach, fingers drawing wild pictures before slipping around, touching his ink.
“Mmm.” There was something amazing about Paddy touching his tattoos. Almost meditative, but sexy at the same time. Sensual.
Paddy slid down, lips trailing along his belly, whispering over his abs, tongue fucking his navel. His body arched, his muscles tightening and releasing, his skin heating up. Neil reached down with one hand, petting Paddy’s head. Those curls were wiry, slipping around his fingers, almost holding on as Paddy’s lips headed for his cock.
Neil spread his legs and arched, needing more of that mouth, more of the forgetfulness of touch. His love. His.
“Mm-hmm.” Lips circled the crown of his cock, tongue flicking the slit.
“Love. Oh, love.” He petted Paddy’s shoulders, his upper back. Yes. More. So good. That wicked tongue pressed inside him, the sting enough to roll his eyes for him. “Paddy. Please.” Suddenly it wasn’t lazy anymore, wasn’t just warm and good. The need uncurled in his belly, riding him hard.
Careful fingers cupped his balls, wrapped around him. Oh. A long, low moan escaped him, his hips drawing up and up, his balls drawing tight. That was just it. Just there. Paddy stroked and petted, fingers dragging over his perineum, tapping his hole.
All he could do was spread wider, arch up, then push down, trying to get more sensation. Paddy drove him quite mad. It was delicious.
Paddy loved it, humming and laughing, pulling hard all around his cock.
“Mmm. Yes. More. Please.” He had to rock, had to move. Sweet. God.
Two fingers pressed inside him as that hot mouth took him deeper, pushing and stroking hard. Neil rode those fingers, the pressure inside him perfect. Absolutely perfect. He moaned, pushing harder, the stretch making him wiggle. Of course, his wiggle made Paddy chuckle, which made his cock bob.
Laughing, Neil thrust, his cock rubbing at Paddy’s lips before pushing back inside. Only Paddy had ever made sex so much bloody fun. Paddy’s tongue flicked out, lapping and nudging at the tip, almost fucking the slit.
“Love you, sweet. Love you. I swear.” He thrashed, trying to remember how to touch, how to make Paddy feel good too. He was lost, though.
I know. He heard it, clear as a ringing bell, Paddy’s tongue slapping his cock just a tad.
“Good. Good.” It seemed very important all of a sudden, for Paddy to know that.
Paddy nodded, the motion tugging him deep into the tight sheath of Paddy’s throat. Neil couldn’t take any more. Not one second. He came hard, his hips rocking, his skin so tight he thought he might explode. Paddy sucked him down, swallowing hard, loving him.
Flopping back on the bed, he stroked Paddy’s hair, murmuring nonsense words. Gracious.
“Mmm.” Paddy’s lips brushed over the base of his belly, tugging at his curls.
“Sweet. You’re so good to me, love. Come here.” He pulled Paddy up until their bodies were flush, Paddy’s prick against him.
“Love you, huh?” He could feel Paddy’s hunger, the little edge of desperation.
“I know, sweet. I know.” He reached down, pushed his hand between them, and grasped that fine prick, tugging.
“Mmm….” Paddy pressed against him, eyes going wide.
“So hard for me.” Hot too. Paddy responded to him so well. So perfectly.
“Uh-huh.” He squeezed, rolling his fingers against Paddy’s cock, loving the moan that earned him.
“Come on, love. Come for me and we’ll have a shower and a lovely breakfast.” He adored waking up with Paddy.
“Mmm. You can have your beans and mushrooms.”
“You can have a fried slice.” Somehow, Paddy had grown inordinately fond of deep-fried toast.
“Uh….” Paddy stopped mid nod, eyes going wide as heat poured over his fingers.
Neil chuckled, licking at Paddy’s neck. “It’s lovely to know a fried slice is all I need to make you come, Paddy.”
Paddy’s laughter was like bubbles.
Pulling Paddy close, Neil hugged him tight, holding on for a few moments. A few utterly peaceful, loving moments before the world intruded again.
Chapter Seventeen
HE FUCKING loved the wate
r.
MJ dove deep, chasing a school of little yellow fish, watching as they shifted and turned, the filtered sunlight making them shimmer a little. Pretty, pretty. There’d been a wicked evil storm in the night that he hadn’t been able to sleep through, so he’d been out on the water for hours now, bare-assed naked and playing.
A huge splash sounded above him, rocking little waves around him, and he could just hear the rebel yell that came with it. Just.
Ah, the morning call of the rare North American Wooded Redneck. One of his favorite species.
MJ swam up toward the surface, taking his time to admire all the way up. Someone else was just as naked, kicking along the surface, that big, fuzzy body all his for the taking. All. His. He nuzzled those heavy balls on the way up, water bubbling around his mouth as Sonny jerked.
Sonny hauled his head above water, grinning at him like a fool. “Hey, Precious.”
“Mmm. Sunshine. Good morning.” It was working out to be a lovely morning.
“Sun. Water. Your ass. Definitely good.” Sonny was all hands and kicking feet, feeling him up but good as they treaded water.
“Mmm-hmm.” He pushed his hand down, cupping Sonny’s balls and tugging a little.
“Don’t make me drown, now. You’d miss me.” Grinning wider, Sonny swam closer, body flush with his.
“No drowning the local wildlife.” His thigh brushed between Sonny’s, rubbing a bit.
“No drowning. We agree.” Sonny took a kiss, just about the time that they started to sink.
He wrapped his legs around Sonny’s waist, dragging them down deeper. His. His redneck. They shared air, kissing back and forth until they had to surface to breathe. Sonny had gotten better at holding his breath once MJ’d taken away most of the smokes. MJ threw his head back, throat working, gulping in air. Hot. Damn, that was hot.
“Mmm. Damn, Precious.” Sonny sounded blown, breathing heavy, voice hoarse. That was even sexier.
“Uh-huh.” He grinned, kicked up, nipping Sonny’s bottom lip.
Grabbing his ass, Sonny pulled him close, rubbing him all up and down. That weightless thing? So rocked. Of course, those thoughts led to Sonny in space thoughts. Dude, floating blowjobs.
“What are you grinning like that for?” Sonny’s hands were doing something ingenious, so he might really have to think about that.
“Who? Me?” He couldn’t help it. There was something grand about the idea of Sonny, bald head in one of those round space helmets, cock bobbing as he floated.
“Yeah. You went from hot as hell to goofy.” Sonny bit him again, just to prove his case.
“Huhn?” All thoughts of floating and astrophysics and gravity went the way of the dodo at the touch of those teeth.
“What is it you always tell me? Focus. We’re sinking again.”
“I am focused.” Mostly. Pretty much. Really.
“Uh-huh. I made food. Come up on deck and I’ll blow you for breakfast.” Tempting. Damned tempting.
“Food and blowjobs? I’m all yours.”
“Come on.” Sonny gave him one last squeeze before striking off, swimming strongly back to their little boat ladder.
Fuck, he loved his life. He followed along, getting close enough to bite and nip at Sonny’s ass all the way up.
This was almost as fun as C-4.
“Watch it, now.” Sonny wasn’t bitching, though, he was laughing, wiggling, really playing it up.
“I am. I so am, Sunshine.” Every fucking inch.
“Mmm. Yeah? Well, you can watch the front.” Sonny turned, arms up.
“Oh.” Damn. Look at that. He scrambled up another rung, lips parted, taking Sonny’s cock in.
“Oh, fuck, Precious.” There was extra salt there, from the sea, but the taste of Sonny was unmistakable. He looked up, tongue fucking the tip of that thick cock, taking more and more in. “That’s it. Just like that.” Sonny was oral both ways. Equal opportunity. Sucker and suckee.
He held on to the ladder, letting Sonny’s hips set the rhythm, push him. They kinda swung, just slapping against the hull a little, Sonny pressing into his mouth over and over. He could so get used to this. He licked and sucked, both of them working, Sonny’s cock sinking deep. Sonny’s feet were slipping on the rungs, but those big hands held, the body itself rock solid so Sonny could push into his mouth. Over and over.
Addictive asshole. He sucked harder, swallowing around the tip of Sonny’s cock.
“Shit! Shit, MJ. Christ.” Sonny came for him, just…. Yeah. That was even better than swimming.
Hell, it was better than almost anything.
“Mmm.” Sonny pushed one hand through his hair, the other still holding that fairly lax body up on the ladder. He licked Sonny clean, then braced himself, using one arm to spin Sonny and him back into the water.
“Gonna drown me now, Precious?” Sonny clung, heavy and hot, rubbing all over him.
“Nope. Just swimming.” Touching. Good shit.
“Oh, good.” He got another one of those bright grins, Sonny looking to be in an amazing mood now. “What about you?”
“I might be dying of an advanced case of blue balls. Either that or it’s the bends.” Sometimes he amused himself.
“Well, I can’t do a thing about the bends.” Sonny reached beneath the water, cupping his cock with one hand. “This I can help.”
He bobbed up and down, swallowing his groan. “You’d better.”
“You sure you want to do this in salt water?” Teasing bastard was already stroking him, knowing how he liked it.
He opened his mouth to answer, moaning instead, one hand on Sonny’s shoulders. “Just don’t let the sharks get me.”
“I promise, Precious. No sharks.” Sonny’s legs moved against his, brushing against his skin as they both kicked.
“Good.” Maybe this fucking in the water was a bad idea. He could see them wearing out.
“Shh. No thinking.”
No. No thinking, not when Sonny’s thumb pressed against his slit, the sting almost shooting him out of the water.
“Who’s thinking. Fucking do that again.” Now.
“Like that, huh?” Sonny did it for him again, a little harder. A little stronger.
“Yes. Like that. God damn it, Sonny.” He needed that fine, strong bastard like no one else. Ever.
“Shit, Precious. You’re fucking amazing.” Sonny gave it to him good, stroking and pulling, scraping his most sensitive skin until he wanted to scream.
Their lips crashed together, drawing blood, and he shot so hard it hurt in the back of his head, made his heart pound. Sonny held him, solid as a rock, while he thrashed in the water, and that heavy body managed to keep them afloat, which was probably a miracle. “I got you, MJ. I got you.”
“Wow.” His legs felt like jelly. “You may have to leave me here.”
“I could tow you, huh? Like, trolling for sharks.”
Evil man.
“Don’t make me kill you. I’m all boneless.”
“We love boneless. Chicken. Steak. All of those things. I like you with or without.” Sonny gave him a hard, sucking kiss before towing him to the boat.
“Mmm.” He nodded, started to help. “We should nap, and then I’ll shave you, hmm?”
“That sounds like a great idea.” That slow, wide grin made him laugh. Sonny loved it when he shaved that bald head.
It made for a sweet afternoon.
Chapter Eighteen
HE COULDN’T stop dreaming.
No matter what he did, how he tried to wake himself up, he couldn’t stop dreaming about hospitals and doctors, red floods of rage. Duncan moaned, jerking and twisting, hands and feet caught.
Caught.
Wait.
His eyes popped open. Caught. Ropes. “Let me up.”
“Shh. You have to calm down, Doc. I don’t have time to fuck you into oblivion right now.” The cowboy was standing by the window, off to one side, peeping very carefully.
“What’s the matter?” So
mewhere, deep in the back of his head, he heard, “Are they coming to get me?”
What did that mean?
Where did that come from?
And didn’t he want someone to rescue him?
“Maybe nothing. Maybe a whole lot. We’ll just have to see.” Silent as smoke, Cowboy came over to the bed and pulled a bag out from the drawer in the bedside table.
Was the man going to leave him here, like this?
He started tugging a little, trying to make his fingers work, figure out the knots.
“Shush, Doc. I’m just getting a little insurance. You’d best just stay down.” A big black gun appeared in Cowboy’s hand, gleaming and smelling like oil.
Okay. Okay, people didn’t just pull guns in hotel rooms in…. Were they still in Dallas? Had they moved? What day was it? Still, Cowboy had just done all that, right? Jesus.
Okay. Okay. He wasn’t stupid. He was a professor. He could untie knots. Up, down, around. Come on.
“Sit still, Doc. You hear me? I need to know where you are if things get hairy.” The man crossed back to the window, leaning on the other side, now.
“Hairy? God, let me up.”
“Will you shut up?” Cowboy’s voice cracked like… like a pistol shot. Boom. Made him jump.
He shut up, focusing on staying still and working the ropes. Whatever was coming, whoever was coming, he didn’t have a real good feeling about it. Just about the time he thought he was free, Cowboy came rushing at him, untied the last of his knots, and pushed him to the floor. “Find some clothes,” Cowboy hissed. “It’s about to get ugly.”
A sudden, sharp rage hit him, deep in the gut. “Who is it? Your bosses?”
“I don’t think so, honey.” Crouching next to him, Cowboy shoved a pair of pants at him. “I don’t think so.”
“I didn’t do anything.” He dragged the pants on, tugged on a shirt. “I didn’t fucking do anything.”
