by BA Tortuga
Shane grunted, thighs spreading. “Want. Damn. Damn, Len.”
“What do you want, darlin’?” Galen grinned, cheeks stretching with the wildness of it. He knew, oh hell, yes, he knew. But he wanted to hear it.
“More. You. Want you to make me scream.” Shane’s eyes were bright, sparking, daring him to give it up.
“Uh-huh.” Fuck. Fuck, yes. He could do that. Galen tugged the chain running between the little rings hard, watching muscles shiver and pop, feeling it in Shane’s cock.
He loved that groan, that grunt, the way those little nipples went tight and hard and dark. Shane’s hands went to them, rubbing the skin pierced by those pretty gold rings.
“No.” Galen slapped them away. “Mine, darlin’.” He bent and bit one, tugged the ring with his teeth, dragged through it with his tongue.
“Len.” Shane’s shoulders hunched up, rolled some, cock jumping under his touch, leaking like a sieve.
That was the prettiest thing. The other nipple got the same treatment, and all the while he pulled and pushed, stroked and cradled. Shane’s skin burned for him, throbbing and heated under his tongue. Filthy words poured down over him, pleas and curses and promises. God, he loved it when Shane lost it like that, started babbling. All those bartender words that no one would expect from that pretty mouth. He bit down, feeling the shudder.
“Fuck. Fuck. More. Galen. More.” Shane started humping up, trying to fuck his hand.
Gently, more gently than it probably seemed, he held Shane down, pressing that sweet ass against the couch. He wanted more, wanted to see marks on that skin, see the flush spread all the way from neck to pubes.
That flat belly rippled, muscles calling to him, begging to be marked. Fuck, the things Shane made him need. He scored that skin with his short nails, leaving little red marks. Yeah. Sweet.
Shane twisted, groaning low, damn near throwing him off the sofa. “Fuck.”
“Going to soon, darlin’. I promise. I just want….” He growled. He wanted every fucking reaction. His fingers slipped down below Shane’s balls, pressing the strip of skin behind.
“Anything.” Shane rippled, one leg bending, propped on the back of the sofa. “Anything.”
A low moan left him, and Galen bent, sucked Shane’s cock in. Oh yeah. He loved that taste. Pure sex. One hand tangled in his hair, the other kept working those rings, the chain between, Shane caught up in the sensations. This time he let the grabby hands go. He had his prize, and he worked it, loving on Shane, tongue working the big vein.
“Gonna. Yeah. Love.” Yeah, he could feel it, taste the drops pouring faster and faster into his lips.
“Mmm-hmm.” Oh Jesus. He just encouraged it, rolling those heavy, tight balls, groaning around Shane’s flesh. Shane shot, filling his mouth, cock deep as it throbbed.
Oh yeah. He still had it. Galen licked Shane clean, swirling his tongue into the slit to get the last drops. Then he moved up to take a kiss, slipping against Shane’s thigh. Those hands landed on his ass, tugging them tight together, sliding his prick against the hot, sweat-slick skin.
“Want you, darlin’. So bad.” He pulled back a little, rubbed down between Shane’s thighs. His cock felt like stone.
“Yours. Yours.” Shane grabbed his cock, rubbing the tip against that tight little hole. Fuck. Fuck.
“Shane. Darlin’. You sure?” They hadn’t done anything to stretch…. When Shane nodded, he lost it, pressing hard into Shane’s body.
The grunt pressed into his shoulder; then Shane’s teeth sank in when he stilled. “Don’t fucking stop. Take me.”
“Shane.” His voice sounded like ground glass, and Galen gave up the talking, just moving in and out, hips plunging.
Shane took him, took everything, and demanded more from him. He bit hard into Shane’s neck, cock throbbing, so close. On the edge.
Shane’s ass clenched, gripping him, “Yours. Galen. Yours.”
“Mine….” Galen shot, his breath catching in his chest as he pumped into Shane over and over.
He settled down into warm, solid arms, Shane rocking, humming, fingers petting him. He nuzzled Shane’s neck, loving the scent of sweat and man and warm leather from the couch. He didn’t even mind that Goober was sitting over by the door, watching him.
“So, vacation soon.”
“Mmm-hmm. No phones. No bars.”
“Nothing but us and a bed and some good food. Maybe some whiskey.” Yeah. Oh, hell, yeah, that sounded good.
He’d better get that weight set and get ripped before they went. He didn’t want to go on vacation with a potbelly.
Chapter Twenty-One
THERE WERE certain unavoidable weirdnesses in life. The way women could talk with lip goop on. The fact that people ate squid. Vic’s ability to eat a whole chicken in a single gulp.
Then there was the way Galen got when he thought maybe someone was looking too hard at Shane’s ass.
Or nipples.
Or anything.
Damn.
Shane shook his head, watched Galen glower and growl at some little redheaded boy who’d dared to ask him out. Galen did that whole looming-and-glowering thing really well. It was like he got taller and his shoulders got wider or something. Like it reminded you that Galen had been a semipro at football.
Not to mention the stubborn chin. Damn.
Of course, it was kinda sexy.
Okay, really sexy.
Glancing over, Galen caught his eye and immediately quit making the kid piss his pants, coming over to him instead. “Hey, you.”
“Hey.” He couldn’t help the grin, the slow, burning look. “You having fun?”
“I am now. Did you want to dance, darlin’?” Galen knew how he loved to dance, he surely did.
“Oh, hell, yes. Any day. Anytime. Yes.” He moved right into Galen’s arms, all about nodding and pushing close.
“Mmm. I like your shirt, Shane. It’s not quite see-through.”
It was. And it was just thin enough to feel the heat of Galen’s hand on the small of his back, like a brand.
“I like how it makes you look at me.” Like he was a bowl of chocolate ice cream and Galen was a starving man.
“Yeah. I like it a lot. Your nipple rings show,” Galen said, rubbing right up on his chest as they swayed to the music.
“Mmm-hmm.” He loved this, the way their hips settled together, the way they matched. They needed to do it more often, for sure. The music changed, going slower, kinda growly, suiting Galen to a T, really giving him some good dancing. Galen gave it right up for him.
“Oh. Oh, man.” He leaned, lips on Galen’s throat, cock filling right on up.
“Oh yeah, darlin’. I just love it when you get all melty.” He could feel Galen’s breath on his cheek, hot and damp.
“Dancing with you’s like pure heaven.” Pure, kinky, slinky sexy.
“Yeah? It’s like being at home in bed, only with music.”
And with strangers watching, but that was okay, right?
“Mmm. We’re a little less naked here. Which is good, the way you growl.”
“I don’t growl. I just… you’re mine, darlin’,” Galen said, pulling him closer and growling right next to his ear. He’d bet someone had been looking too close.
“I am. Balls to bones.” Like anyone else anywhere could be Galen.
“Good.” One big hand cupped his ass, pulling him up, rubbing them together. “Good thing I’m not a jealous man, huh?”
“Absolutely. Might make life dangerous.” He chuckled, nipped Galen’s throat.
“Oh, do that again.” Now he could feel Galen’s answering hardness, pushing at him through their jeans.
Oh, hell, yeah. He bit again, letting his teeth sink in harder, deeper.
That fuzzy beard that Galen had grown in rubbed his cheek and his nose as Galen arched into the touch of his mouth, humming deep and low. The music picked up again, but they didn’t, just swaying slow and easy.
It didn’t get any better.
Well, okay. It could get hotter.
Kinkier.
Way more naked.
But this still rocked his world.
Especially since he knew Galen would never, ever do this with anyone else. The man would rather sit at the back of the bar with a beer he’d opened, those long legs sprawled out, hips tilted just so, attitude pouring off… kinda like when they’d met.
“Why me?” He tilted his head, lips on Galen’s earlobe. “There were other men at the club that first night. Why’d you pick me?”
“You had this thing, darlin’. This way about you. When that old man reached out and tweaked you, I wanted to take him down. That’s when I knew.” Galen pinched his butt, making him jump.
His chuckle was a little breathy, and he pressed closer. “Oh, man. I guess I got something to thank him for, then.”
“Uh-huh. And he has you to thank for still having his head.” Breathing hard, Galen rubbed him, loved on him. “We might… we might need to go home.”
“Uh-huh. Home. Bed. Naked.”
Before somebody looked too hard and Galen got grumpy.
“Or you know, the Jeep and the beach.”
Oh. Oh, they hadn’t done that in an age. “Oh….” He just damn near died. “Weatherman said there might be a squall tonight.”
“Let’s go, then, darlin’. I’ve got a hankering to tie you to the roll bar.” That wasn’t a hankering in Galen’s pants. That was a big old need.
“Mmm-hmm. You. Me. Rope. Rain.”
Him and Galen.
Pure heaven and he hadn’t even had to ask for it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
SHANE SCREECHED into the driveway, gravel flying. Galen Frost was going to get his ass kicked so hard he’d be shitting from between his shoulder blades.
It was bad enough no one could ever get through on the fucking house phone or Galen’s cell, because Mr. Gee-I-Own-A-Fucking-Football-Thing Frost was always on it. Or that they never went out anymore, because somebody not him was always flying here and there doing football shit.
But being stood up?
While Tommy and Rick and them watched and laughed and pointed and offered to get him a real date? Somebody that showed up. Somebody that paid attention. Somebody that wanted him for more than a hard fuck on the stops home. Somebody that…. Yeah.
Fuck that.
He tore the door open, snarling. If the man wasn’t dead, he was going to kill him.
There was no one in the kitchen. Or on the leather couch in the front room. Or even in Galen’s office. In fact the phone was off the hook.
Oh shit. Maybe Galen was sick. Or attacked by an ax murderer. Or Vic. “Goober? Where’s Len?”
Goob came wagging over, whuffling sleepily at his feet. Then the silly mutt waddled right off down the hall toward the bedroom, tail fanning back and forth.
He headed back toward the bedroom, trying not to wig out. Well, there was no blood. That sort of limited the whole ax murderer idea.
He got to the bedroom, and the lamp by the bed was on, the low light shining on the clothes laid out on the bed. Charcoal gray pants, the ones that showed Galen’s ass off so good, and a thin, crazy-patterned shirt that gave him just the slightest hint of chest hair, sat there, along with Galen’s good boots and hat.
Okay….
“Galen? Galen? Where the fuck are you?” There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his belly that damn near hurt, and the fear was metallic and sharp in the back of his throat.
He heard a tiny splash from the adjoining bathroom, Goober woofing and looking at him, ears flopping. Shane hit the bathroom door at a run, the image of his Galen fallen in the tub sudden and sickening.
Galen was in the tub all right—head back on the fancy rolled edge, arms dangling over the side. His lower lip maybe an inch from the water. He was snoring.
Oh.
Shane stood there for a second, heart just pounding, and then he flicked the toggle that let the water out before turning on his heel and heading out.
He heard a snort, a splash, a thud, and a yelp, Galen crying out sharply. Then nothing but Goob whining at his heels.
Fuck. Asshole. “Are you okay?”
“Shane?” Damn, Len sounded drugged, a little slurred, and a lot wet and gurgly.
“Yeah. Are you okay?” He didn’t want to be fucking nice and go help.
“Uh.” There was more splashing and squeaking, and finally a very damp and bedraggled Galen appeared in the doorway. “Oh shit, darlin’. I fell asleep.”
“Yeah. You gotta be careful about that. You could drown.” He tossed Galen a towel from the top of the laundry basket. “You feed Goober yet?”
“Yes?” Galen sighed, rubbing his hand across his short-cropped hair. “I don’t know, darlin’. I think I did, but he always acts hungry.”
“’Kay.” He’d just feed the pup again. And not yell. See him not yell? He was so not yelling.
Stomping. Slamming down bowls. Possibly growling.
But not yelling.
Go fucking him.
“You’re gonna explode, Shane. Come on. Let me have it.” Galen spread his hands, shoulders slumping a little. “I deserve it.”
He just shrugged, grabbed himself a beer, the air from the fridge cooling his skin. What fun would that be? Galen was tired, and they could go out whenever, maybe the next time Galen was home. It wasn’t like he was fucking going anywhere anytime soon. Hell, he wasn’t ever gonna get to be any better than he was right now; he knew it. “I’m gonna go change into some shorts.”
“What time is it?” Galen had followed him out, staying just close enough, but not quite touching.
“Little after midnight.” He hung up his good shirt, grabbed his shorts. He’d gotten off at seven, showered over at Rick’s. Met Tommy over at the restaurant at eight.
“Oh…. I…. Damn.”
That hangdog look was gonna make him kick something. He didn’t know what to say, so he just sort of didn’t. He hung up the phone and sort of wandered.
“Darlin’.” Galen finally stopped him by slipping up behind him, wrapping those long arms tight around him.
“This isn’t gonna make me less pissed at you.”
“What will?” A clean-as-a-whistle chin rubbed his shoulder. Galen only got that smooth when he shaved twice.
“I don’t know. Tommy offered to get me a date.” One that showed up, even.
Galen stiffened, but just as Shane was about to get all don’t you even dare, Galen nodded. “Yeah. I can see that. I’m sorry.”
“You needed your sleep. We can go out whenever.” He finished his beer, watched Goob drag one of Galen’s flip-flops down the hall. “You hungry?”
“No, but I could make you something.” Galen backed off, letting him go, one hand sliding down his arm.
“Nah.” Shane took a deep breath and blew it out. “I’m wanting Swiss Cake Rolls and another beer.” Nothing like comfort food.
“We’ve got beer. No Swiss Cake Rolls. Maybe Moon Pies….” No. Galen didn’t get to sound kinda lost and worried. Not tonight.
“Man, I’m batting a thousand tonight.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Man, this being pissed thing sucked. “You want a beer?”
“Yeah.” That smile was wry, Galen’s upper lip curling. “You want me to make brownies?”
“No. I want you to stop acting all worried and start working on seriously sucking up.”
That got him a sharp bark of laughter, Galen coming right on up and pulling him close, big hands on his hips. “Want me to kiss and make up?”
“I’m not ready to make up yet. But kissing’s a start, yeah.” At least there, he knew Galen wasn’t off thinking about football and phone calls and trips and stuff.
Well, he was pretty sure, anyway.
“I can do that.” Bending, Galen set their lips together, kissed hard, pressing his mouth open to taste inside.
Oh. Oh, better.
He shoved back, letting out some of the frustration, some of the aggravat
ion from the last few hours. Days.
Months.
What-the-fuck-ever.
Fuck, his Galen smelled good.
Felt good too, when Len grabbed his ass and lifted, pulling him right up against that hard, wide body. That kiss had his breath whooshing out, had him pressing close. He bit down on Galen’s lip, fingers digging down into those shoulders. Bastard. Falling asleep on him. Standing him up. Moaning, Galen pushed him back, the world spinning until they hit a wall, until Galen could get leverage by working one thigh between his. Then he had something to press against.
Oh, hell, yes. Yes. Just there. It ached all through him, balls to bones. “More. Want more, damn it.”
“Whatever you want, darlin’. However you want it.” His skin stung as Galen bent to bite his neck, teeth sharp and hard.
“I want you. Fucking miss being yours.”
“Shane.” Galen looked at him for a minute, just stared, before bending and putting a shoulder against his belly, hoisting him up. Oh, Len hadn’t hauled him to bed in too long.
He curled around Galen’s shoulder, got his mouth on the first bit of skin he could find and started licking and sucking.
“Uhn. Shane. Need.” They made it to the bedroom, but only just. He went flying, hitting the bed maybe a second and a half before Galen hit him, shoving him down and kissing him so hard he saw stars.
Fuck, yes. That’s what he’d been wanting—more than dancing, than going out, than fucking anything.
Galen rubbed on him, licking him, kissing him, soft sounds coming from that wide chest. Like growls.
“More. Galen. I want.” His skin felt tight, too small everywhere Galen’s touch wasn’t, and he arched up toward that heat, getting all the contact he could.
“Yeah, yeah, darlin’. I want in you.” Oh, that raw whiskey voice shivered his spine.
He nodded, spreading wide as he could, begging Galen to fill him up. “Now.”
“Just let me get….” Len scrabbled around, finally cursing and pulling back, lifting his hips up, setting that hot mouth to Shane’s hole.
“Galen!” He arched, hands slamming against the headboard and holding on tight as that hot tongue touched him, pressed inside him. In and out, Len touched him, pushed him, opened him up. Got him wet. Goddamn that mouth. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop crying out and twisting and begging for it. Bastard. Making him need. “Please!”
