Tropical Depression

by BA Tortuga

  Shane’s head popped back when he pegged it, ass clenching around him tight as anything. “Oh fuck. Yes.”

  Galen still managed to slip one more finger in, stretching them out, stretching Shane. He wanted that ass open for him, ready, ’cause he was gonna ride it hard.

  Shane stretched out over the hood, went right up on his toes.

  Fuck. His cock jumped, his belly went tight, and Galen gave in to the urge that was riding him. He slipped his fingers free, lined his sun-and-Shane-warmed cock up, and he shoved right in, grunting at how tight Shane was, how fucking right.

  “Yes.” Shane bucked, muscles rippling and squeezing around him, holding him tight.

  “Uh-huh.” There. Right there. Galen pushed all the way in, hips against Shane’s ass. He leaned down, hands sliding down Shane’s arms, fingers twining with Shane’s.

  He fucking loved how they fit together, hand in fucking glove, Shane holding him tight. “Oh, hell, yeah. Love.”

  He moved, fast, hard jabs of his cock into Shane’s body. He held on, loving the way Shane looked spread out for him, over the hood of the little Jeep, splayed and plugged. So fucking hot. Shane started shaking, shoulders rolling as they moved faster, the Jeep rocking back on its springs.

  “Love. Shane. Oh, darlin’, killing me.” He rocked too, his hips snapping, his cock pushing so deep. He let go of one of Shane’s hands, reached up to pull and pinch one shining nipple ring.

  “Len. Len.” Shane groaned, riding him hard as spunk sprayed over the hood.

  “God.” Shane clamped down on him so tight, and Galen lost it, growling deep in his chest as he shot hard into Shane’s body, banging him up against the hood.

  “Mmm…. Damn. Damn, Len. That’s something else.”

  He leaned, kissing Shane’s cheek. “Couldn’t resist you, darlin’.”

  “Good to know. I’ll do your truck next.”

  “Hell, yes. And then you can scrub the deck.” They’d kill themselves. But it was a beautiful day. And that was a helluva way to go.

  Chapter Nine

  “WE’RE GOING to Momma’s for Thanksgiving. Is that all right, darlin’?”

  Shane looked up at him, squinting against the watery sun. They’d had a big old blow the night before, Tropical Storm Someone Fruity, and they were out working at putting boards on the windows of the bait shop where the glass had busted out. He’d not bother to replace that until spring, when the worst of the season had blown out.

  “Can we bring Goob?” Shane asked.

  “You have to ask? Momma wants to know how he’s doing. I think she thinks of him as her grandkid now.”

  The cell phone clipped to his belt rang, and Galen reached for it, but the way Shane’s face fell made him let it ring. Then the way those eyes lit up for him made him feel ten feet tall.

  “You get time off from the business for Thanksgiving?”

  He grinned. “Yeah. Frank and I are both taking the whole week. No phone.”

  Shane bounced a little, that compact body flexing away, making Galen pass over an admiring stare. “Cool! It’s gonna be fun, getting to go this year.”

  Yeah. Yeah, because last year he’d had to go by himself….

  Galen forced that thought away and grinned wide, nodding before he reached over to goose Shane, just to hear him hoot and drop the hammer. “It’ll be fun, all right,” he said. “Wait until you taste Momma’s pumpkin pie.”

  IT SMELLED like turkey and pecans and bread and fudge, and Shane thought he might die.

  Of course, the guest room smelled like Galen and… something sorta fruity. Blackberry?

  Blueberry?

  Cranberry?

  Weird candle-in-a-jar berry?

  Something.

  Shane leaned over, kissed Galen’s cheek. They’d come in late-late last night and crashed like a pair of tired puppies. Sort of like Goob, and…. Man, Galen needed a puppy. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

  One big hand slid around his waist, just like Galen had been waiting for him and his kiss was a signal. The sleepy growl in Galen’s voice told him Len hadn’t been awake, really, but, well, that was how his Galen reacted to him. Immediate.

  “Hey, darlin’. Happy Thanksgiving to you too.”

  “Mmm. Smells like your momma’s been busy. Smells good.” Sorta like what the TV said Thanksgiving ought to be like.

  “It does.” Galen took a long, deep breath. “Mmm. Pie. Rolls. Dressing. Just wait until she starts the turkey. The pups will be drooling.”

  “Yeah? Should I go help?” They didn’t do Thanksgiving when he was little, and last year was…. Well. Not Thanksgiving.

  “No. Nope. You should stay out of the way. By now Aunt Maura and Cousin Doola will be in there with her, and that’s scary.” Squinting past him at the clock, Galen chuckled. “In fact, we should stay in here until nine, when the parades start. We’re expected to come out then and eat breakfast.”

  “Mmm…. Breakfast? Your folks don’t mind that you and me are… in here?”

  Breakfast.

  Yum.

  “Nope. Momma has stayed at our house, you know. And as for the aunts and uncles and cousins, well, this is Momma’s house. Do we need to let the pup out, or is he gone already?” Len was not leaning to look. In fact he was… nibbling.

  “I. Uh. Huh?” His nipples went hard and he rolled closer. God, Galen smelled good.

  “The dog, darlin’. Does he get a free show, or are we alone?” That voice. God, he loved Len’s voice, all sandpaper and grrr.

  “Mmm. Momma let him out a while ago.” She’d winked at him and smiled and shut the door.

  “Oh, excellent.” One big hand stayed on his waist. The other started sliding down his belly, fingers callused and rough. “We’d best get busy. It’s eight thirty.”

  “Already?” He rolled over on top of Galen, straddling those lean hips. Fuck, they’d best get on it.

  “Mmm.” Stroking his back, Galen curled up to lick at one of Shane’s nipples, teeth threatening. “You look happy.”

  “Uh-huh. I….” His toes curled, and he swallowed a moan. “I never did Thanksgiving before.”

  Those big black eyes stared into his, Len looking shocked as all get-out. “What, never?”

  “No. My folks went out to a restaurant. I always worked.” He’d sorta thought it was a myth.

  “That’s just wrong, darlin’. I tell you, you might be in for a shock, then.” Those hands went right down his butt, squeezing.

  “Is that bad?” Not the butt squeezing—that rocked. The shock part.

  “No. I think it’ll be good. I really do.”

  Oh, kisses. Kisses were good too. Len gave him one that was long and deep and hard. Shane stopped thinking about turkey and pie. Well, the whipped cream part sorta stuck around, because that mouth and his cock and whipped cream would be…. Damn.

  “Mmm.” There it was again. That hum. Galen cupped his cock, his balls, fingers squeezing him.

  “Galen.” He spread, hips starting to roll, pushing against Galen’s hip, Galen’s belly. “Want.”

  “Uh-huh. Me too. Want bad.” Yeah, he felt Galen hard against him, right up on his thigh. Hot, wet, so hard and good. Hands, mouth, cock, everything about Galen felt good.

  It was almost as good as being in their bed, almost, because this bed squeaked a little and Momma was right out there and ew…. A guy didn’t want to think about anybody’s momma while fucking.

  They rocked, Galen pulling him down to get great friction, their skin slipping and sliding. Hoo yeah. They’d make it by nine, no problem.

  He nipped Galen’s bottom lip, tugging at it, loving Galen’s little growl, the deep groan. His hand pushed down, wedging between them to get Galen’s cock.

  “Oh, darlin’. Yeah.” Galen thrust right up into his hand, and suddenly both of them were stroking, straining, pulling.

  Shane nodded, biting on Galen’s shoulder to muffle his cry as Galen rubbed right there.

  “Uhn.” Grunting, Galen drove up in
to his hand again and again, hips pumping, wet heat spreading over Shane’s hand just like that.

  Oh. Hot. He. Oh. “Len.”

  Man, he hoped no one heard that sorta rhythmic squeaking noise.

  “Come on, darlin’. Gimme.” Greedy Galen.

  “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Oh. Damn.” He arched as he shot, eyes rolling a little as the heat flowed through.

  “Oh, Shane. Good. Happy day, indeed.” Grinning, Galen hugged on him.

  “Mmm-hmm. Happy day.” Oh, he should bring Galen to Momma’s for Thanksgiving every year.

  “And we made it in time to wash up before we have to go out there,” Galen said, popping his butt, laughing as he jumped.

  “Bitch.” He nuzzled a second, chuckling. “Man, I thought it was bad, to shoot so soon.”

  “Only under certain circumstances. When you’re both there at the same time? Not a problem. Come on, darlin’. Momma will be knocking soon.”

  “Oh, man. We so need to wash.” He rolled out of the bed and into the little washroom with the two doors, then peeked to make sure the hallway door was locked first. “You want a quick shower?”

  “Yeah. Let’s make some steam.” Galen rolled up and padded after him, looking like a predator. It was hot. Oh. Oh, be good, Len. He’d get all het up again. Shane turned on the water, heavy on the hot.

  He had to laugh, because a loud throat clearing out in the hall had Galen hopping in with him and scrubbing them both, getting a good foam. The touches weren’t designed to get him revved, just to get him clean.

  Galen’s momma had some stinky damn soap. Slickery too. Sorta silky. Weird.

  The water cut off as soon as he got rinsed, and Galen wrapped him in a towel, kinda like a mummy, then hauled his ass out of the tub. “Jeans or sweats, darlin’?”

  “Jeans. I don’t want your people thinking I’m nasty.”

  “You haven’t met them. Trust me, sweats would be fine.” But Galen gave him a pair of jeans and a light sweatshirt, grinning big.

  He shrugged them on. Yeah, well, still. He wanted to make Galen proud.

  “C’mere, darlin’.” Galen hauled him close for a kiss once they were both dressed. “You ready to go meet the family?”

  “Yeah.” He was. For real. “I love your momma.”

  “She’s fond of you too.” Laughing, Galen slid one hand into Shane’s back pocket and guided him out into the hall, where they were promptly attacked by the pups.

  “Beasts!” Shane laughed, scritching Goob as Momma’s dogs tackled Galen full force.

  Len romped with Momma’s big black Lab, ending up on the floor with her licking his face. Someone poked Shane in the back, and he turned to see Galen’s momma, laughing, her dark eyes so much like Len’s it was weird.

  “Good to see y’all are up. Go on and sit in the front room, and I’ll have Doola bring out the biscuits and gravy.”

  “Good morning.” He reached out and hugged her, kissed her cheek. “We’ve missed you.” It wasn’t bullshit either. Galen’s momma was… something special.

  Oh, she smiled at him so hard her eyes almost disappeared. “I’ve missed y’all too. When breakfast is done, come on in and wash some dishes for me. We’ll chat.”

  “I can do that.” Washing was one of his superpowers. “Did you notice Goob’s all trained? He hardly ever chews on stuff anymore.”

  “I did. Now if I could just get these monsters to mind.” She waved at Lila and Poppy, the shepherd twins, who were happily drooling on Galen’s collar. “Come on and visit when you’ve eaten, honey.”

  She left him with a smile and a pat on the cheek, heading off, whistling a Christmas tune.

  He looked over at Galen, shook his head. “Biscuits and gravy, huh? They as good as yours?”

  “Who did I learn to cook them from, huh?” After hauling himself up, Galen came on and led him out to the front room, where there were already three guys sitting on the couches. Two of them had long, long legs, so they had to be related by blood. The other looked more round and short.

  “Hey, y’all.” He nodded around, gave everybody a grin. Shit, he’d never found a group of folks he couldn’t get on with that he wasn’t related to. “How’s it going?”

  One of the long-legged pair grunted, but the other grinned, nodding. Honestly, they could be twins. The little guy waved from his seat. “Hey there,” he said. “You must be Shane. I’m Galen’s cousin by marriage, Buford. Grab a plate, son. Parade’s on, and food is on its way.”

  There were plates on the little table over by the hall, and silver and napkins.

  Lord.

  This was sorta like the first time he’d gone to Galen’s house with all the pans and plates and shit like a real grown-up. Sorta like, not all the way like, because there wasn’t biting or bruising or him riding Galen’s cock like Galen was a prize pony….

  Still.

  Lord.

  The tiniest woman he’d ever seen, with the pinkest hair he’d ever seen, came in, carrying this huge tray that Len took from her and set down before grabbing the lady to kiss her cheek.

  “Morning, Cousin Doola. How’s it going?”

  “Galen!” Gracious, she had a voice like Minnie Mouse sucking a helium balloon. She was cute as hell. “Good to see you, honey. Did you bring… you did.”

  The little woman advanced on him, giggling up a storm. “Shane. You have to be Shane. It’s nice to finally meet you, honey.” She hugged tight for such a small thing, and she smelled like cranberries and baby powder. And sausage gravy.

  “It’s nice to be here. It all smells real good.” He hugged right back. What the fuck kind of name was Doola? Then again, Galen wasn’t the most common name ever, now, was it?

  “Well, there’s biscuits and gravy and eggs and grits and potatoes….” She babbled the whole while as she dragged him to the food, elbowing one of the tall ones out of the way as he tried to scoop up half the eggs in one go. Somewhere behind Shane, Galen was laughing.

  “Y’all went all out….” He was gonna whack Galen for real. Man, he needed a cup of coffee.

  “Now, Doola. Shane’s not a morning person.” Galen elbowed right in too, filling them a plate and somehow whisking him right away without being rude. “Let us sit a bit, and he promised to come wash dishes.”

  Doola nodded and bustled out, and he and Galen staked out this huge recliner, coffee appearing under his nose.

  “Have I mentioned you’re on Santa’s good list, Mr. Frost?” He gave Galen a smile, a real one, drinking deep and letting the familiar heat and flavor settle him out.

  “I thought I might be. It can get overwhelming even when you know them all. Wait until the kids start showing up.” Galen stroked his belly a little, totally unselfconscious.

  “I like kids okay.” He just sort of melted, all of him. He wasn’t going to admit it, but there’d been a part of him that had worried about how Galen would be, once folks were around.

  “They like you too. Kind of like dogs.” He got a grin before Galen dug into breakfast, feeding him bites every now and then. A quick peek at the relations told him no one was even looking. Cool.

  That made it that much easier, and by the time they were done eating, Shane had the guys and Doola relaxed and easy. It felt good.

  “Okay, darlin’. You’d best go help Momma with the dishes or she’ll pout. There’ll be more coffee in there too.” He got a serious look, a touch to one cheek. “Want me to come with?”

  “I’m good. Momma and I do good.” She understood how he needed Galen.

  He headed into the kitchen, Goob following along, ears flapping. Dorky dog.

  “Shane! Hey, honey. Come on over here. You feeling better now you’ve had some coffee?” Momma smiled at him, then kissed his cheek, her hug good and warm and right.

  “I am.” He squeezed her, kissed her back. “Happy Thanksgiving. Thank you for breakfast. It’s so good to see you. We hit weather in Georgia, and I thought we’d never make it in.”

  It had been fun, though. Drivi
ng with Galen and Goob. They’d taken their time, goofed off, laughed, sang Christmas songs, eaten weird random crap. He’d loved every minute.

  “Well, I’m glad you did. Without y’all to ease the craziness of all of these weird folks, I might go crazy.” She set him up at the sink, tying an apron around his waist. Goob started biting at the strings right off. “So you’re not missing anything with your folks?”

  “My folks?” He blinked, shrugging a little. “Oh, Lord, no. They never did Thanksgiving, and uh…. Well…. They don’t talk to me anymore. Haven’t in ten years.”

  “Oh.” She gave him this look. This sort of squinty-eyed, lips-pressed-together look, and for a minute, he thought she was mad at him. Then she said, “Well, they just don’t know what they’re missing. It’s a good thing you got us now, isn’t it, honey? Got family to be with.”

  “It is.” He grabbed a plate, started scrubbing away. Well, of course it was good. Galen and Momma were his family now, just like he was one of theirs. “Everything smells good. Did you make pecan pie? Galen’s been talking about it ever since we left home.”

  “I did. And pumpkin and chocolate pie too. I know you like the chocolate.” Someone he didn’t know appeared at his other elbow, grabbing the plate and drying it.

  “Hey, there.” He nodded over, kept scrubbing. “Oh. Chocolate pie is the best. Do you need anything from us? Like for groceries or anything?”

  “No, honey.” Her hip bumped his as she reached for a bag of apples. It was homey. Like when he and Len cooked and cleaned together, only with less groping and kissing and all. Uh. Yeah. “If y’all want to go buy a bill of groceries after everyone else leaves, we’ll talk on it then.”

  “Okay.” That was really sort of Len’s thing anyway. He struggled hard enough at the club making numbers match up. His money he handed over. Well, after Galen found out it was all in a tin can and he’d never even had a checking account, anyway.

  Goober barked, and Momma tossed him a piece of sausage, making the silly mutt wag and wag. It was all so normal, so nothing like anything he’d ever had, that it made him blink.

  “Are you all right, honey?” Momma asked.