Tropical Depression

by BA Tortuga

  “You can pay me back tonight. Right now, you get to be all mine.” He bit again, toes curling right up. His cock nudged Len’s hole, begging to be let in.

  “Now.” Pushing back, Len tried to rush him, tried to line him up. The hair on Len’s thighs brushed him, that tight butt rubbing.

  “Uh-uh. You let me love you, now.” He waited for Galen to relax, fingers rubbing all along that muscled back, making sure Len knew he wasn’t being a bitch, wanted to make it all right.

  Gradually, Len relaxed under his hands, sighing happily and stretching, but not demanding. “Yeah, darlin’. Yeah. Love how you feel. How you do.”

  He smiled, tongue dragging here and there. “Good. So good for me.”

  When Galen groaned, shivered, he eased right in, sinking into Len’s heat. The sheath of muscles closed around him, Len’s body out to burn him right up. Galen’s muscles jumped, twitched, sweat beading up in Len’s skin.

  He licked the sweat up, waiting to move ’til Len eased, that grip not so tight. “You ready?”

  “Yeah. I am. Need you.” Growl. Like sandpaper right over his nerves, that whiskey voice. So hot. “Come on, darlin’.”

  “Oh, good.” He wrapped his fingers around Len’s hips, started fucking with deep, long strokes. He pulled them together over and over, made the couch creak for them.

  They moved so well, so easily, Len moaning for him, rocking back against him. They almost lost their balance when Len leaned up on one arm so he could use the other hand on his own cock, but they got right before they fell.

  Shane shifted and moved until he found the perfect spot to send Len flying, Galen’s low cry letting him know he hit it right. “Oh. Fuck, yeah. Right there.”

  God, if Len got any tighter, he might just die. Galen’s moans came fast, low, so rough and deep. And the rhythmic movement of Len’s arm and shoulder told him how close Len was as it got faster and faster.

  He leaned down, pressed his lips to that dark mark he’d left, hips slamming. “C’mon. C’mon. Gimme.”

  “Fuck!” That shout rivaled all the weird cat noises on the TV, and Galen gave it up for him, coming like a freight train. And Len’s body closed so tight around him that he saw stars. He emptied himself out, bucking furiously, buried in balls-deep as he shot. Sweet fuck.

  Galen supported both of them, head down between his arms, legs starting to just shake. “God, darlin’. Love you.”

  “Love you. Damn, Len. I… I’d a come to the shower. You… you’re way better than popcorn and kung fu.”

  Laughing, Galen folded at the knees and they went down. Galen snagging the discarded towel to clean them up. Turning, Galen put an arm around him and pulled him close for a kiss.

  “Mmm… hey.” Shane grinned, rubbed their noses together.

  “Hey. You taste like butter.” He loved that look in Len’s eyes, all unfocused and dazed.

  “Popcorn.” He grinned, licked, listening to the squealy, twangy weird-ass music from the TV. “Lucky for you it’s a double feature.”

  “Oh, so I get fucking and kung fu.” They snuggled up, a little sticky, a lot warm and happy.

  “Uh-huh. Life? Is good.”

  He stretched, fed Galen a bite of popcorn.

  Real fucking good.

  BEER?

  Check.

  Munchies? Yep.

  Goober? Where the hell was the mutt?

  “Shane! We’ve lost the dog. How can we go to the beach without the dog?”

  “Lost Goob? No way. Did you look on the bed?” Shane wandered in, flip-flops and straw hat and sunglasses. “Goob! You wanna biscuit, baby?”

  Damned if there wasn’t a flop and a grunt and then the shuffle-shuffle of that little beast.

  “He hides from me.” Galen grinned, took a kiss as Goob waddled in. While Shane fed the little butt-wagger, Galen found his straw Stetson and his old white canvas sneakers. “You ready?”

  “You know it.” Shane bounced. The man loved the sun, the beach, the whole package, grinning at him, eyes dancing. “Let’s hustle.”

  “Don’t forget Goob’s leash. Remember how he wandered off last time, hunting that wild corny dog.” Darned hound sniffed so hard he wandered off a mile up the beach before they found him. Galen got the cooler and the snacks, and they headed out to the Jeep. Goddamn, it was a fine day.

  Goob howled along with Shane to the radio, both of them happy as pigs in shit.

  It was all Galen could do not to just laugh and laugh. Shane and that pup… well, his momma had been right. They were a match made in heaven. Didn’t look like it was too crowded at the beach either, so maybe they could play some Frisbee, tease the pup.

  They got all set up, Shane glistening in the sun, damn near glowing. The little radio got turned on, and he got a beer and a grin and a nice, nice view. A man could live for weeks on a look like that. Galen settled his cold beer on his crotch, knowing it was way too damned early to be getting a stiffie. Pulling his hat down, he wiggled down in his lounge chair, grooving on the waves and the sun and Shane humming.

  “Man, I love being out here. ’S why I stayed, you know? Got down here and got all addicted and shit.”

  “Yeah. I didn’t think too much beyond swamp when I came down. Reminded me of home. This was a bonus.” But he’d gotten used to it. The water and sand and Shane over the hood of his Jeep and… Goob eating something nasty.

  Shane turned over, legs spread, sweat drops slip-sliding down his thin spine. “Yeah. You think Victor’s found him a lady gator yet?”

  “Oh, I imagine he has. He’s a handsome bastard.”

  Victor. Lord, Lord. Galen chuckled, then wrapped his lips around his longneck and pulled.

  Shane grinned, nodded. “He was something else. How many folks got them a backyard gator?”

  “Yeah. I bet he’ll be back someday.” He would bet on it too. Free chickens and a pool with floaties. What more could a gator ask for?

  “He will. Maybe with baby gators.” Shane snorted, cackled. “Oh, man. That would be funny. Little baby Vics.”

  “Oh, sure. Goob would try to eat them. Besides, according to the Nature Channel, it’s the momma gator who hangs around until they can go out on their own.” Because if it was on Discovery, you knew it was true.

  “No shit? I think they’d give Goob the runs.” He got a grin, Shane shifting on the blanket. “And speaking of mommas, yours’d shit a pink Twinkie.”

  “You ain’t just a woofing.” He could damn near see his momma running around with a broom, beating little gator babies. The thought made him laugh right out loud, and he nudged Shane with his toes, sharing the visual.

  Shane cackled, rolling over, hand sliding up along his thigh, little tease. Every inch that hand moved up his leg gave him another bit of elevation on his cock. Galen raised one leg to hide it just as a couple of kids came along to pet Goob and… good God, that pup’s breath.

  Shane sat up, gabbing with the kids, throwing a stick for Goob so they could watch the pup run and bounce, those ears like Dumbo’s. Surely the mutt was gonna take off and fly one of these days. The kids distracted Shane enough that Galen could run his foot right along under Shane’s butt and tickle as the kids ran off.

  Shane jerked, hooted, asscheeks squeezing up as he wiggled. “Watch it. Gonna get sand in scary places.”

  “I like friction, darlin’. But not that much. Want some Cheetos?” Those orange things were just the ticket for a lazy day.

  “Oh… hell, yes. We got Swiss Cake Rolls too?”

  “We do. We’ll have to eat those up or they’ll melt.” Little Debbie first. Then orange stuff. Goob came back, and he flipped the little mutt a Cheeto. There was nothing much better than chocolate and beer. Sex with Shane. Good whiskey. That was about it.

  Oh, well, there was watching Shane eat those damned cake thingies. Damn. The chocolate got nibbled and licked, and then the cream filling got licked out.

  “That’s almost obscene, darlin’.” He was so hard a cat couldn’t scratch h
im. He wanted Shane’s mouth in the worst way.

  “Just almost?” Shane waggled his tongue, winked, then went back to teasing.

  “Yeah. Now, if you deep-throated it? It would be something else.” Little shit. He wiggled his toes just so….

  He got himself a little peep, a squeak. “It’s too short to count for anything, man. A big carrot? Cool. A big-assed cucumber? Worth begging for. But this? Nope.”

  “There’s always the longnecks.” Abandoning the chair, Galen crawled down on the blanket, stretching out on his belly. He’d lost his T-shirt when they arrived, and his cutoffs should be riding down just right. “Lotion me up, darlin’?”

  Shane licked his lips, watching him, eyes suddenly hot. “I can so do that.”

  Shane straddled his ass, slicking up his hands.

  “Oh.” He growled, feeling Shane against him. Damn, this might backfire on him.

  “Uh-huh….” Shane’s hands landed on him, slip-sliding right up along his spine.

  Lord. That was gonna melt him right into the sand. “Feels good.”

  “Sure does. Damn, you’re fine, Len.” Those hands knew where to touch him, how to touch him and make him melt.

  “You think, darlin’?” Would he ever get tired of Shane admiring? He sure hoped not. Galen pushed back a little with his ass, rocking up.

  “No, sir.” Those fingers dragged right down his spine, a hint of sand making them scratch. “I know.”

  “We should either get in the water or go home, darlin’.” No way could he just let this one subside.

  “Whatever works for you, Len.” Shane was in the same spot, cock hard and hot in the seam of his shorts.

  The water meant they could tie Goober to the leg of the lounge chair and keep him occupied with Cheetos while they jacked each other under the water…. The Jeep meant picking everything up and waiting and…. Well, even salt water was better than that. He bucked Shane off and got the pup secure, then headed off at a good clip. “Last one in has to do the laundry, darlin’.”

  “Oh, fuck that.”

  That man could move when he had incentive. What Galen had on Shane in leg length, Shane more than made up in quickness, and damned if the banty little rooster didn’t splash into the water right in front of him. Galen made up for it by dunking Shane right under, laughing like a loon.

  Shane’s hands eased into his trunks, fingers sliding up the leg of his shorts, sweet as fuck.

  “Yeah, darlin’.” He hauled Shane up, pushing into that hot hand, his own sliding into Shane’s shorts to cup his ass.

  “Mmm… you’re something else.” He got a wild, happy grin, Shane hot and eager. It was just right, fading sun making Shane’s skin glow.

  “And you make me crazy.” He wanted to eat Shane up, but there were still people around. So he settled for doing things where no one could see, sliding one hand around to cup Shane’s cock.

  “Mmm… damned sun needs to go down.” Shane let the waves push them together.

  “You know it. I want. Oh, darlin’, the things I want.” He was about to bust.

  “Uh-huh. Dreamed last night about that time in the storm with the ropes, remember?”

  “God, yeah.” Even he could hear the growl in his voice. That had been a damned good storm. He got inside Shane’s shorts, stroking that sweet cock nice and firm.

  “Uhn.” Shane’s eyes went wide, teeth sinking into that bottom lip just like that. Wanting that bottom lip so bad he could taste it, Galen sank down in the water almost to his neck, pulling Shane down with him. There, out of sight of the beach, he could take a kiss.

  “Oh. Oh, shit, yeah. Want.” Shane got it, nodded and moved closer, diving into it.

  Mmm. Yes. Heavens, yes. He stroked Shane’s cock, sucking Shane’s tongue like there was no tomorrow. As the sun went down, everyone else left the water, and it was like they were in their own private world.

  Shane’s hands weren’t still, tugging here and pulling there and setting him on fire, right there in the water. He gasped, bucking, Shane’s name hard on the heels of their last kiss, falling over into the next one. They licked and sucked and bit, both of them humping hard.

  “Come on, come on.” Shane arched, gave it right on up.

  “Oh, damn.” His whole body shook hard as Galen came, bucking and grunting. “Oh, darlin’.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, love.” Shane nuzzled his chin, shaking with it. “So good.”

  “Gonna sink.” And Goober was gonna shit orange for days if they let him eat the whole bag of Cheetos. “Wanna stop and get barbeque on the way home?”

  “Ooh… yeah. Ernie over at Rib Kings owes us supper for me covering his tab that night his wallet got stole.”

  “Excellent.” Hoo yeah. Coleslaw and cornbread too. “Come on, darlin’. Let’s go rescue your mutt from the horror of Cheeto poop.”

  “Len. Gross.” He got a wary look. “Is it gonna be as bad as the plastic rubber duckie pieces?”

  “Might be worse. The ducks don’t glow in the dark.” He chuckled, hauling them up so water ran off them, heading inland just as Goob started howling for his human.

  “Lord, he sure can sing, can’t he?” He got a grin, a kiss. “We’re coming, Goober! Chill out!”

  Watching Shane slosh up to free his mutt, ass swinging, Galen decided there was no better way to spend a fine, sunny day in Florida than on the beach with Shane by his side and a cooler of beer.

  Even if Goober did burp toxic orange all the way home.

  Chapter Fourteen

  LORD, LORD. What a day.

  Night.

  Morning.

  What-the-fuck-ever.

  A group of punks had tried to break into the bar as they were closing up—all leather and chains and trying to be big badasses, waving a pistol around like they were gangsters. Now, that wasn’t too terrible. There was a bat under the bar and a nice length of iron bar in the office, and they almost had fun running the little pricks off.

  Until the cops came to arrest him, for fuck’s sake.

  Stupid little asshole pricks going to the hospital and saying he beat on them.

  Which, he sorta did.

  But still, they deserved it.

  They’d walked in like they owned the place, strutting like weird leather daddy chickens. One of them shoved Terry Favors right into a little pod of ladies who were trying to decide whether to come on in and order or just leave.

  Shane knew right then this wasn’t gonna end well. He’d made sure he knew where the bat was, since people tended to move it, but he flashed them a smile when they made their way to the bar.

  “What’ll it be, boys?”

  “Who are you calling boys?”

  Shane bit his tongue. “Figure of speech.”

  “We want shots.”

  “Sure enough. What kind?”

  Thug number one grinned, a gold tooth glinting as he pulled the .33 out of his jacket. “The free kind, asshole.”

  “Oh, son, I don’t think so. I don’t serve free drinks to dickheads.”

  The front man blinked, then scowled. “What did you call me?”

  “You heard me. Now get on out of here.” He’d pulled out the bat, and his barback had come over with that piece of pipe, and Shane went over the bar like a pirate boarding a rival ship.

  Then it had been all over but the cleanup. Until the cops.

  He slipped out of the Jeep, heading to the house. Took all fucking night to take care of it too. Thank God for security cameras.

  “Hey, darlin’. I was worried sick about you.” There was Galen, turning on the porch light and heading out to grab him right up.

  “Hey.” He pushed right on into Galen’s arms, sighing, relaxing. “What a fucking night.”

  “Figured it had to be bad, darlin’, but I couldn’t get away from the damned phone.” That sports team Galen had done some investing in was sucking up his time. Sucking up enough time that Galen was on the goddamn phone when he was busy being arrested, even. Of course when Galen was
kissing him like that? He kinda forgot all about it.

  Kinda.

  Almost.

  Well, not really. Being arrested sorta sucked.

  “Yeah. They fucking handcuffed and fingerprinted me and everything.” Shane pushed into the kiss, hips rubbing, cuddling into Len’s heat.

  Galen gave him just what he wanted, kissing him so hard he saw spots in front of his eyes, the only indication of how much that whole police thing pissed him off the way Galen’s hands tightened on his ass.

  His groan echoed, pushing into Galen’s mouth. He gave up being tired and a little pissed for wanting, for needing it.

  Shoving him back, Galen ran him right into the hood of his Jeep, hands under his ass lifting him up. Galen muscled in between his thighs as they spread, rubbing back, bending him like he was made of Play-Doh.

  “Oh fuck. Len.” He spread wide, begging for it. The hood was still warm, the heat sliding up through his T-shirt, his jeans.

  “That’s the… fuck. That’s the idea, darlin’.” Teeth digging into his shoulder, Galen worked a hand between them and opened his jeans, wrapping a hand around him. “Been missing you. Worrying.”

  “Bastard kids. Aaron’s got a broke wrist too. Made me so fucking mad.” He couldn’t stop looking, watching Galen’s hand on his skin.

  “Oh, man. You’re gonna be busy as a….” One-legged… oh. That felt good, Galen’s thumb right there, his mouth just so.

  “Uhn. More. More, Len. I need.” He’d worry more later. Tomorrow. Some time.

  “I know, darlin’. I know.” God, Len swarmed up him, opening his own jeans so they could rub, fingers plucking the rings in his nipples through his shirt. Kisses deep and drugging pulled at his lips, Len sucking his tongue right into that hot mouth.

  Oh. Oh, that was what he wanted. Just like that. Right there. He got his fingers all tangled in Galen’s hair, holding on tight. Galen got them moving, rocking, the hood of the Jeep squeaking under them. Groaning, Len really went to town, leaving bruises on his throat, his shoulder.