Tropical Depression

by BA Tortuga

  “I am, darlin’.” Hell, yeah. The pants gave easily under his hands, sliding down Shane’s thighs to bare that tight ass, and Galen bent to bite into one cheek, then licked to ease the sting.

  That low cry made his balls tight, the way it gentled into a groan, almost a plea.

  Thumbs digging into Shane’s muscles, Galen spread Shane wide, mouthing his way to Shane’s hole, poking at it, getting it good and wet. He loved those sounds, loved the way Shane wiggled and arched.

  The bed creaked, Shane moving like he was fucking dancing, body tight, begging.

  “God, Shane.” He pressed deeper, feeling Shane’s heat, letting his finger slide in, opening Shane up.

  “Uh-huh. More.” Oh, demanding thing.

  “Spoiled.” Grinning wildly, he nudged two fingers in, easing the way with his own moisture, tongue flicking. Shane tasted like heat, earthy and good.

  “Yeah. Yours. All yours.” That voice was low and deep, a little thready, a lot breathless.

  “Mine.” His own voice? Purely satisfied. Possessive. Lord, what Shane brought out in him. He lifted up, propping Shane up on the bed more, and climbed up behind, reaching for the lube. Time to really take advantage of having Shane home with him.

  “Uh-huh. Fuck me. Want you.” Shane leaned, teeth scraping the sensitive skin of his upper arm as he stretched.

  “Yeah, darlin’.” A quick dose of lube on his fingers got Shane open and ready the rest of the way, ready for him to slide his cock right on in, pushing until his hips sat hard on Shane’s ass. “Fuck. Tight.”

  Shane rippled, squeezed him good and hard, that ass gripping him tight.

  Uhn. Moving was about the only thing he could do, because thinking and speaking were out. He started rocking, hips running back and forth, hands sliding up and down Shane’s back. God, that skin.

  Shane crawled up along the headboard, meeting his thrusts, slamming back hard.

  Bending, Galen stretched out along Shane’s body, biting at the back of Shane’s neck. He reached around, searching out those pierced nipples, twisted them with each thrust.

  “Oh!” Yes. Yes. He loved the way he could feel that, the way Shane bore down, shook inside with each twist. Harder and harder he moved, thrusting in, giving them some serious friction. He closed his eyes and rode it, loving on Shane with all he had.

  “Galen….” Shane moved back and up, ending in his lap, his cock shifting as they came together, skin slapping.

  “Shane!” Oh. They teetered as he struggled for balance, but then he got it right, got them set. Which was when he reached for Shane’s cock and started pulling.

  “Yeah. Yeah, just like that. Sweet fuck.” The low babble filled the air, Shane hot enough to burn him.

  He was gonna bust. That was all there was to it. Split wide open and ooze all down the bed. Galen bit down hard on Shane’s shoulder, sucking up a mark, claiming. That did it too. Shane grunted and squeezed, heat pouring right out over his hand, just like that.

  God almighty. Galen managed one, two more thrusts before he was coming like a freight train, his eyes rolling in his head. Shane was like nothing else, ever.

  “Mmm-hmm… better than the fucking phone any day.”

  “Hell, yes, darlin’. Though we should have locked the bedroom door too.” Because damned if Goober wasn’t sitting there looking at them. And kinda… wagging.

  Shane started laughing, the happy sound making that pup wag harder. “Oh. Oh shit.”

  “Yeah.” Grinning, he let them topple over, flopping on the bed and reaching down for Goober. “C’mere, mutt.”

  Shane chuckled, hand sliding on him, just loving. “He deserves a friend, Len. And you ought to have a Goob too. Well, not a ‘Goob,’ because they’d get confused and it would be weird, but a puppy.”

  “I do not need a puppy.” Though he guessed he could call his momma and see if she knew anyone who had something. A Doberman. Or a Rottie.

  “Uh-huh.” Goob clambered over to get to Shane, drooly little shit.

  “What? I don’t.” Galen grinned, watching those ears flap as Shane scratched behind them. Okay, okay, maybe it would be nice to have a his-sized dog to wrestle with.

  “Yep. Something big enough to scare Vic off if he tries to eat Goob.” Shane grinned up at him, that look wicked as all fuck.

  “You’re a shit, you know?” He grinned back, pinching Shane’s nipple. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll look into it.”

  “I’m your shit and you love me.” Shane grinned, then got this serious look on his face. “We ought to think on a vacation after tourist season, Len. Go somewhere, stay here, I don’t care. But we should.”

  “Okay, darlin’.” He scooted close, moving Goob to one side. “You had enough?”

  “Yeah, kinda? I mean, I know I’m supposed to be all ladder-climby and shit, but I didn’t mind bartending, and this working ninety hours a week shit sucks. I love that club, but it ain’t you. You remember New Orleans? Or Vermont? Just us? I need me some of that.”

  Yeah. Oh yeah. He remembered. And damn, even when Shane had been home lately Galen’d been on the fucking phone. “Then we’ll plan something. Something… oh. Maybe something tropical this time. Aruba. Barbados.”

  “Mmm…. Anywhere. I like to go and see stuff with you.” Shane’s fingers slid over his arm, down his chest, petting him.

  “I like taking you places.” Everything was new through Shane’s eyes. Different. “Love you, darlin’.”

  He cuddled close, just… being.

  “Yeah.” Shane nodded, kissed his chin. “Yeah, love.”

  They’d work the vacation out later. Right now he’d settle for a quiet night in.

  Chapter Seventeen

  WORK WAS starting to get to him. Galen sat behind the counter at the bait shop, a diagram laid out in front of him, his shiny new laptop humming along with the radio. Damn, but he hated that he had to get out of the house to get anything done, but Shane was… constant temptation.

  The little bell above the door jingled, Old Man Taylor limping in, his little blue heeler romping right in behind. “Well, well, Frost,” the old man muttered. “Was wondering if you’d packed up and gone to Yankeeland again.”

  “Nah. Just been busy.” Great, now he was getting guilt from the locals. “This is a hobby. You know that.”

  “Well, some of us fish for a hobby and need you to be open, son.” The grizzled old fart grinned before reaching around the counter and grabbing a bottle of Coke out of the cooler Galen kept there. He plopped down and crossed his feet at the ankles. “So what all are you doing?”

  “Oh, been making calls on investors and advertisers. Did you know the average non-NFL team has to have an average of fifteen sponsors to stay out of the red?”

  “Sounds boring as hell, son.”

  That stung, but only because it had a ring of truth to it. Galen sighed, taking off his hat and rubbing his head before scrubbing at his beard a little. “Well, it’s mainly a favor to an old friend. Really,” he added at Taylor’s skeptical look.

  “Sure, son. Sure. Just remember that you’re semiretired. You get to my age without enjoying that and you’ll regret it.”

  Galen nodded, staring at the bright screen of his laptop. “I’ll keep that in mind, old man. I surely will.”

  GALEN SANG along with the radio, his voice morning-rough and harsh. Man, he needed to stop going to the bar on Saturday nights; the smoke killed him these days. But he missed Shane. A lot, thanks to the fucking work schedules they’d been keeping. So he went.

  He poured the champagne into the orange juice, then flipped the pancakes on the plate. He’d gotten up early enough to make brunch in bed for Shane. About noon, in other words. Galen flipped a sausage link to a very hopeful Goober before shoving him out into his run, then headed into the bedroom, just a’humming away.

  Shane was sprawled out in the sheets, one arm above his head, the other lying against his belly, thumb slowly rubbing the long, hard cock.

  The tray bobbled
in his hands, and Galen set it down on the dresser with a thump, staring.

  “Jesus, darlin’. You trying to make me dump hot food on myself?”

  “Nope.” Shane didn’t even open his eyes, just licked his lips and moaned. “Was dreaming about you, Len, about us.”

  That thumb circled the tip of Shane’s cock, spreading the drops there, Shane’s thighs going tight.

  Galen grunted, leaning back on the dresser on his braced arms, watching. “Oh God, darlin’.”

  “Mmm-hmm. Love that. Love how you sound.” Shane moaned a little, hand starting to move, Shane jacking himself off, not holding back a bit.

  “What….” Galen cleared his throat, trying not to growl. “What sound?” Fuck, Shane was gonna kill him.

  “The way you say darlin’, the way you rumble. The sound you make when you’re wanting, when you’re watching me ride you, watching me all filled up.”

  Oh fuck. Look at those thighs spread. Galen clenched his hands on the dresser to keep his knees from buckling. “Love how you look, darlin’. All the time. But like this… oh fuck.”

  “Uh-huh. Want you. Want all sorts of things.” That free hand dropped, tugging the chain, making those pretty, shiny rings in those nipples shift.

  “Yeah? Tell me what, darlin’.” Was that his voice? Sounded like he’d been on a three-day whiskey binge. Galen realized he was rocking, his cock showing against his boxer briefs.

  “You, in me. In here or outside in the rain, spread and all hungry. Fuck, Len. Love.” Shane drew his knees up, hips pushing up, driving that cock into his fist.

  He could smell how close Shane was, could feel it vibrate all the way across the floor. Prying one hand off the dresser, Galen rubbed himself through his shorts, moaning as he kept his eyes peeled, wanting to see.

  “All wet with the rain, filled. Fuck. Fuck, yeah.” Shane reached down, rolled those tight balls, and cried out, spunk spraying.

  Galen almost fell right over. Instead, he wobbled to the bed, growling as he landed next to Shane, skinning off his shorts. He rubbed against Shane’s thighs, all sorts of curses falling out of him.

  Shane moaned, turned toward him, nodding, hot and damp and smelling of sex.

  “Darlin’. Need. Touch me.” He grabbed Shane’s wet hand, tugging it down to wrap around his cock. He couldn’t last long, not the way it was zinging up his spine to his brain.

  “Uh-huh. Mine. Love. Come on. Want,” Shane babbled, hand working him like nothing else, just jacking him straight to heaven.

  Galen grunted, back arching as he shot like nobody’s business, his cock throbbing he came so hard. His groan shook him all the way down to his toes.

  Shane made a happy little sound, nuzzling and cuddling into him. “Mornin’.”

  “Morning, darlin’.” He grinned, licking Shane’s throat and rumbling. “I made brunch. Mimosa Sunday.”

  “Oh. Mimosas.” Shane petted his hair, humming low. “Smells good.”

  “Mmm-hmm. So do you.” Galen breathed deep. Shane smelled like them, like come and sweat and their bed and salt. He could fucking get off on that smell for years. “I even made sausage.”

  “Too fucking cool.” A man could live forever on that sound, happy and satisfied and his.

  He kissed Shane’s neck, his shoulder. “Lemme go get it. We can eat and snuggle.”

  “Mmm… I’ll grab it. You cooked.” Shane hopped up after mopping them both up a little, bouncing and flopping and grinning. “Ooh… strawberries!”

  “Uh-huh.” Rolling to his back, Galen tucked his hands behind his head and watched Shane saunter back over. “You do a man good, darlin’.”

  Shane settled down next to him, snuggling right in, offering him a berry. “Just one man, yeah? Just one.”

  “Just this one, for sure.” The growl was back. No sharing for him. Shane was his. Period.

  Shane nodded, hand hot on his belly. “Don’t see us sharing anytime soon.”

  “Nope.”

  He gave a satisfied grunt and offered Shane a link of sausage. “Even if we do let Goober sleep with us sometimes.”

  Shane chuckled, nibbling on his fingertips. “Goob’s good for footwarming, so long as he doesn’t lick.”

  “Or fart.” Lord, that dog could bust some nasty stink bombs. “So, I figure we need a plan for the day.”

  “Plans are good. I can hang with plans.” He got another bite, this time of cantaloupe.

  “Good. Here’s my idea. We eat. We shower. We maybe fuck some more. We eat and drink some beer in front of the TV…. How am I doing so far?”

  Shane tilted his head, nodded, those eyes just twinkling. “So far, I’m liking the plan. Go on.”

  “Oh, somewhere in there we play with Goob. And maybe give massages if it doesn’t seem like work.” He grinned back, happy in his bones.

  “Mmm-hmm. Maybe a nice lazy blow job during commercials.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  HE’D BEEN thinking on it a lot. Like a lot a lot. Watching Galen get all frowny and bitchy and testy and, well, grumpier than a dog with mangy balls, which was not only gross, but damned grumpy too. Shane didn’t know what the fuck was up—maybe Goober ate one of Len’s house shoes; maybe there was weird money shit; maybe the state of professional football made the man’s butt itch. Galen could be complicated and shit.

  It didn’t really matter. Shane figured it was his job to fix things before someone took a tire iron to Galen’s head and fucked up the man’s part.

  He put the massage oils and the furry glove and the lube on the bedside table, then grabbed the little wrist-tie dealies. “Galen? Can you c’mere?”

  If loving the man into goo didn’t work? Shane reckoned he’d have to call Len’s momma.

  Len really didn’t want him bringing Momma into this.

  “What?” That frown was right there as Galen came into the room, bending Galen’s little mustache all down.

  “I need a favor, sorta. Can you get naked?”

  “Can I get….” Galen looked at him, squinty. “Why?”

  “’Cause you’re in a shitty mood and I want to make it better.” He held up the ties. “Just trust me, ’kay?”

  Galen looked at the ties, looked at him, and he could see it in Len’s face, the stuff that Len would never say. But finally Galen nodded and started unbuttoning his shirt. “Okay, darlin’. We’ll play it your way.”

  He went over, kissed Galen’s jaw. “Thanks.”

  Then he started helping and touching and kissing, making things as least weird as he could.

  They got Galen naked, got that big body all bare for him. Galen’s chest rose and fell, that belly tight and hot under his fingers.

  “Come on and lay down, yeah?” He wouldn’t tie Galen to the bed, just tie those hands together so Galen could worry about feeling good.

  “Okay.” Galen went with him, stretching out on the bed, looking docile as Victor in the kiddie pool. ’Course, Len had teeth and was about as quick as Victor too.

  He stripped down, settling beside Galen and cuddling, kissing one wrist before slipping the black leather around it.

  Oh, okay. That?

  Sorta hot.

  Maybe more than sorta.

  “This cool?”

  “Yeah.” Galen tensed up but relaxed nice and easy against him after a few seconds. “Yeah, it’s cool.”

  “If it stops being, you say.” Like he wouldn’t know. Still, Shane figured he should say something about it out loud. He brought Galen’s other hand up, twined the leather around, nice and simple. Damn, that was pretty, all dark against Galen’s tan.

  “I will, darlin’. You know that.” Those dark eyes watched him, really intense, like the first night they’d met.

  He nodded, moving to straddle Galen’s hips, fingers sliding down the muscled arms, touching, feeling. Galen was like a little furnace under him, and it was all he could do not to rub. “Oh damn. I love touching you, Len.”

  “Mmm.” Arching under him, Galen smiled. “Love
it when you do, darlin’.”

  Those bound hands moved, stopped short, and, oh, that was pretty.

  “You just feel, Len. That’s all you gotta do. I’ll love you right.” He leaned down, tongue slip-sliding over one of Galen’s dark little nipples.

  “Oh, fuck. Shane. Good.” He could tell it was, the way Galen moved under him, the way Galen’s whiskey voice went all growly. He hummed and nodded, lips surrounding the whole little nipple, tongue working the tip. His hands were on Galen’s belly, Galen’s hips.

  Galen hummed back, legs shifting restlessly, cock rubbing against him. There was nothing on earth like that long prick.

  He let his lips drag over to the other nipple, giving it a little of the good loving while his hands cupped Galen’s balls. They fit nice in his hand—soft and hot and covered in dark hairs that tickled his palm.

  “Shane!” Galen bucked for him, every muscle in that big body shaking. “Oh, darlin’.”

  “All yours, yeah?” He smiled and worked his way down, lips mapping that six-pack, fingers rolling Galen’s balls. “Smell so good, Len. So fucking good.”

  “Love the way you feel. Love the way you look loving me.” Galen shifted, trying to get closer, bound hands curling up against Len’s chest.

  “You’re just feeling, now. Let me… I wanna make it right inside you.” He settled so his cheek was on Galen’s belly, tongue exploring the tip of Galen’s cock, fingers moving to love on the soft skin inside Galen’s thigh.

  “Always do, darlin.” Spreading for him, Galen rubbed, cock hot against him.

  “Good.” He smiled, leaving soft, sucking kisses on that hot, taut flesh, tasting that salt and wet. Shit, he liked this, being able to just chill out, feel and look and not have to get all distracted and insane. Well, okay—he fucking loved the distracted and insane, but this was still rocking cool.

  Len liked it too. Yeah, Shane could tell. Galen’s muscles quivered under his fingers and his lips, and Len’s cock throbbed against his mouth. He scooted down a little more, took more in, sucking easy. Galen spread, and Shane’s hand slid down one thigh, petting away.