by Cameron Dane
Sirus reached down and grabbed Grey’s sac through his sweatpants, tugging him hard enough to make Grey wince with a quick stab of pain. “Hold on.” Sirus bit Grey’s chin as he eased away from Grey’s mouth. “Don’t lose it yet.” He issued that order as he licked his way down the column of Grey’s throat, sucking the notch of his Adam’s apple along the way. “I’m going to let you go.” The snug hold on his nuts disappeared, and Grey bit his lip, struggling with everything in him to force down his orgasm. “But don’t you dare shoot until I get my mouth on your cock.”
Oh, holy hell. Grey blinked rapidly and mentally started to account for every penny of money he and John had invested so far this year. He visualized columns of numbers in his head, working like the very devil himself to focus on sums and figures as Sirus slowly moved down his body, tasting every inch of skin his mouth crossed. The man let his wicked hands drift ahead and push their way inside Grey’s sweats, digging his fingers into Grey’s hips as he eased the fabric down and freed Grey’s rearing, sticky cock. The head seeped a steady line of precum, and it reached for his stomach, so swollen and sensitive Grey thought it might burst a fire hose worth of seed right on Sirus’s chest at any moment. Sirus took his goddamned time, though, swirling his tongue around Grey’s already stiff and pointing nipples, worrying them into such tight buds Grey thought he might scratch them off his own body just to get some relief.
Grey squirmed all over the bed, unable to keep still. Sirus moved lower, but not fast enough to suit Grey’s needs. With every hot breath Sirus exhaled against Grey’s flesh, Grey shook as if he felt it sink into his pores and invade his blood. By the time Sirus reached Grey’s belly button and sank his tongue into the little dip, Grey was spread-eagle on the bed, humping his hips and ready to scream.
“My cock, man.” Grey’s voice was barely a scrape of sound. “Take care of my cock.” He reached up and wrapped his hands around the headboard so that he didn’t shove Sirus’s head down to his straining dick. “Suck me.” Grey would never beg, but he had also never gotten closer to outright pleading for what he needed than he did right now. “Now.”
Sirus looked up, his eyes pale as the moon. “Thought you’d never ask.” He engulfed Grey’s dick in one fast swoop, surrounding the length in suctioning, wet heat, pulling until he took Grey’s tip to his throat.
Then, Sirus swallowed, and he mastered Grey’s prick with one simple move.
Grey threw his head back, shouting hoarsely, “Ahh … fuck … fuck!” He bucked wildly, shoving his cockhead farther down Sirus’s throat as release overwhelmed him and he came. No time to feel it in his belly or core, Grey just let loose and spewed, his dick swelling and jerking with every jet of semen he unloaded down Sirus’s throat. Grey’s eyes practically went crossed as he felt the ripple of Sirus’s throat on his tip, knowing each time he felt it that Sirus swallowed down every drop of his cum.
Still breathing heavily in the afterglow, Grey watched through slitted eyes as Sirus reared up, tore Grey’s sweats the rest of the way down his legs, then yanked his own off, springing his raging cock out of hiding. The first coil of awareness and comprehension hit Grey just as Sirus said, “God, baby, I’m so hard.” Sirus licked his fingers with one hand and stroked his erection with the other. “I need to fuck you right now.” He spread Grey’s thighs with the stance of his own and slipped his slick fingers through Grey’s crease, teasing right on Grey’s hole.
Grey inhaled sharply and grabbed Sirus’s fingers, clamping a chokehold around them just as they pushed at his sphincter.
So close.
Grey’s heart sat right in his throat. “No, you can’t.”
Sirus snapped his gaze up, his hand still holding his dick, and agony mapping his face. Where only seconds ago Grey had felt wonderful, his stomach now churned with nausea. A twisted desire to let go of Sirus’s fingers and scream “Yes, fuck me,” pounded like a second heartbeat in Grey’s core, but years of answering to his personal code finished his comment on automatic. “I told you, I don’t bend over for anybody, and I meant it.”
Angry storm clouds swirled in Sirus’s eyes, darkening the color so deeply a chill trickled down Grey’s spine. Pure unadulterated need sat visibly on Sirus’s striking face and, for a moment, Grey feared Sirus would overpower him and take what he so clearly wanted.
“Let me suck yo—” Grey started. The cold in Sirus’s gaze shut down Grey’s offer more effectively than the loudest shout ever could.
Sirus stumbled out of bed and turned away from Grey, barely making it to the foot of the bed, where he stopped and braced his hand against the footboard. Half bent over, Sirus jerked himself off without a sound, the tension in his back and legs speaking volumes above the most intimate of moans. Grey knew he shouldn’t look, but as much as he knew he caused this, and that Sirus would not want him to witness this personal act, Grey couldn’t turn away for the world. A dozen fast jerks of Sirus’s fist up and down his cock later, and the tiniest intake of audible breath reached Grey’s ears. Then, the splash of semen hitting the floor sounded like a pressure washer hitting siding as Sirus succumbed to orgasm.
One long minute that felt like an eternity hung heavy in the air between them, but, eventually, Sirus turned and grabbed his sweats from the end of the bed. He lifted his head and looked Grey in the eyes, and Grey knew he sat in the presence of a better man.
“I hate like hell you saw that,” Sirus said, his voice hard and distant. “If I could have made it even to just the hallway, I would have.”
“I know.” Shame blanketed Grey, even though he had been honest with Sirus about his position regarding sex from the start. “I’m sorry if you got the impression I was going to change my mind about letting you fuck me. I won’t. I don’t bend over. For you, or anybody.”
Sirus slipped on his pants and adjusted his cock. “You’re scared,” he said, not looking away even for a second. “Literally and figuratively.”
“Why?” Grey snorted, covering the fact that his hackles rose to full alert. “Because I don’t want someone to fuck me? That makes me scared?” He stacked his hands behind his head and stared right back. “It’s not possible for you to believe I just don’t want it?
Some men don’t, you know.”
“Some men, yeah.” Sirus didn’t back down or skip a beat. “But not you. I could feel it in every line of your body this morning, Greyson. You want me inside you. Maybe you’re scared of what it will feel like or if it will hurt.” Looking Grey up and down, Sirus raised a brow and said, “My money says you’re scared to give up control of your body and put your pleasure in someone else’s hands.”
Grey rolled his eyes. “Don’t make me into a romance novel cliché, Wilder.”
“If the pages fit…” Sirus shrugged and turned away, but two steps into leaving he turned back around and leaned right into Grey’s space. “You know what? I’m not one of your little boyfriends back home. I don’t give a shit about your job, or your money, or what I’m sure must be one hell of an apartment. I don’t want anything from you, so I don’t have anything invested in shutting my mouth and rolling over every time you want to plug my hole, rather than speaking up and saying that I want to fuck you too. I think you already know that, and I think it terrifies the shit out of you that you already treat me differently than one of your regular, easy, forgettable lays.”
Sirus leaned in even closer and braced his hand on the headboard, right beside Grey’s face. “I want inside you,” he said, making the hairs on the back of Grey’s neck stand up on end. “I want to work like hell to give you pleasure before I take you, if that is what is required. I’m not gonna say I never want you to fuck me again, because the fact is I like feeling your weight on me, and your cock in me. I like it so much I want to do the same to you, and I won’t pretend I don’t just to keep you happy for two weeks while you’re on a vacation from your life. I don’t need any man’s cock that much. Not even yours.”
Grey sat stock still, unable to move, even just
to breathe. After a few ticks, Sirus cursed and pushed away from the bed. “I have to go. I need some air.” He waved his hand without looking back. “Maybe I’ll see you later.”
The door slammed seconds later, and Grey knew Sirus had left the cabin, probably without grabbing more than his coat that hung by the front door.
Grey sat in the middle of his big bed, feeling empty inside.
Feeling damned unworthy of even having a fling with a man like Sirus.
Thinking, thinking, thinking, but seeing no solution to solving this puzzle, Grey slammed his fist into the headboard, and then did it again, and again, until his knuckles hurt like a son of a bitch.
He deserved it.
Chapter Eleven
Hours later, Sirus slashed another charcoal line across the page of packing paper, working at releasing the cauldron of emotion still seething inside him. Greyson Cole. The damn bastard wouldn’t even give up his hold on Sirus long enough to let him focus on his sculpture.
It’s not Grey’s fault you can’t concentrate, you pussy, it’s yours. You’re the one who won’t stop thinking about the harsh words you exchanged this morning.
Sirus growled and swept another defining line across the paper, angry with himself even more than he was with Grey. Sirus didn’t have to like it one damn bit, but Grey had been honest about what he expected out of this vacation fling. Sirus thought the man was lying to himself about why he didn’t want to let a partner fuck him, but at the same time, Grey had never pretended he was open to receiving another man’s cock in his ass. It was Sirus who couldn’t control his goddamn wanting and had pushed an issue he had no right to press.
You know why you did it too. You don’t want to just fuck Grey; you want to know him in a deeper way. You’re starting to fall for him, just like you always do.
“No.” Sirus threw the piece of charcoal on his worktable and shot to his feet, knocking his stool over in his haste to stand. He strode to his current project and put his hands on the partially chiseled slab of stone, willing his vision for this piece to return to his head and hands. A picture of Grey standing half-naked in the rain filled Sirus’s mind, and the cool material under his palms started to warm with life. “No.” Sirus withdrew his hands and spun away, looking for something to hit. “Not you.”
“Afraid it is me,” a familiar voice broke into Sirus’s workspace. “But I have good news.”
Sirus whipped his head up, caught in a maelstrom of hostility … and lust. “Noah.”
His plumber. Pursing his lips, Sirus rubbed his hand over his face, wiping away the hardness he knew must show there, and forced a smile. “Hi. Ah, sorry about that; I wasn’t talking to you. Just fiddling, trying to figure something out.”
Noah moved a few steps into Sirus’s shed, his hands tucked in his pockets. “I can see that.” He stopped at Sirus’s worktable and looked down, but immediately jerked his gaze away and darted it around the area. “I didn’t know you did sketches. I thought you did …
I don’t know,” he shrugged, “sculpting, I guess you call it.”
Moving in closer, Sirus wrinkled his brow as he took in Noah’s obvious discomfort.
Sirus’s focus caught the edge of his drawing, and he slumped, closing his eyes at the picture his hands had formed with the charcoal. Shit. He’d drawn a picture of Grey in bed. He hadn’t even realized what his hand was putting to paper. The image of Grey’s face, forever frozen on paper in that stark, hard place of release, stared up at Sirus and Noah. With his muscles tense and bulging, in the picture, another man had his hand wrapped around Grey’s erect cock. Sirus’s hand. Well then. Sirus didn’t deny his homosexuality to anyone in town who dared question him about it, but he also didn’t have any interest in making someone uncomfortable with what he desired. As he’d told his brother, he didn’t have pictures of naked men lying around for anyone and everyone who visited him to see.
At least, not until now.
Sirus pulled a drop cloth over the sketch. “I apologize if that made you uncomfortable,” he said, tracking Noah’s gaze until it stopped and met his. “Not that I drew it, but just that I didn’t give you a head’s up that it was out on my table.”
“No, it’s fine.” Noah waved his hand in a negligent gesture, his attention briefly dropping back to the covered paper. “It just surprised me for a minute, that’s all. It’s not the kind of stuff you usually give Ginny to sell.”
That got Sirus standing up straighter. “You’ve seen my stuff?” Huh. He wouldn’t exactly have expected such information from a rough guy like Noah Maitland.
“Janice likes to go into Ginny’s store,” Noah explained, mentioning his wife.
“Sometimes you have to kill an hour or two in one of those craft places when the wife wants to grab a few things, you know?” The man momentarily looked pained, as if he relived one of his trips to Ginny’s shop. “A guy tends to wander off from the scrapbook section every now and again. I saw a good number of your pieces over the last, what, six years?”
Sirus nodded. “Give or take.”
“I think they’re pretty nice.” Noah attempted a smile. “Your art … things, I mean.
Whatever.” A dull crimson crept up Noah’s neck and into his hairline. “You understand what I’m saying.”
“I do. Thank you.” Sirus dipped his head. “That’s very kind of you to say.” His chest swelled and he started to feel excited and human again. “Let me know if you ever see something you think you might want, and it’s yours, free of charge.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t do that.” Noah backed up and lifted his hands, shaking his head.
“It’s your art.” He ran his hands through his blond hair, as if his attempt to push the short length off his forehead made any difference. “It has too much value to just give away.”
“Creating these pieces is not my job, it’s my hobby, and it gives me joy to share it with friends. I drive my truck to earn a living. I do this,” Sirus turned in a circle, letting every inch of the excitement this workspace brought him catch fire in his heart again, “because it brings me peace and pleasure. You and Janice come up whenever you want and pick something out. Or, if you like, I can create something special for you both.”
“No, you can’t.” Noah stilled, and his face became a mask. “Janice and I aren’t living together anymore.” His brown eyes dulled to mud. “We’ve separated and are filing for a divorce.”
“Oh, I didn’t know.” Sympathy filled Sirus’s voice, and his chest hurt over a long marriage ending. He didn’t know Noah or Janice well, but he figured they had to have had twenty years of marriage on them. They had two teenage kids. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you.” It looked like it hurt Noah to swallow as he spoke. “It’s not easy, but it’s for the best.” More dark shadows crossed his gaze before he banked them completely.
Abruptly, he crossed his arms against his chest. “I’ve been staying at a motel, and was thinking about biting the bullet and renting a place, but I just heard the other day that the McClusky’s are selling their house and moving to New Mexico to be closer to their grandkids.” Noah mentioned the retired couple who owned the cabin on the east side of the lake. “It’s a big step, but I’m thinking about buying it.”
“I hate like hell the reason it’s happening,” Sirus replied, “but I’d love to have you as a neighbor. I’m biased and love this land. If you’re looking for a place where you can just stop and breathe for a while, I can’t think of a better place than this mountain.”
Noah’s attention drifted to the open shed door, staring, as if he could see through Sirus’s cabin to the lake beyond. “Yeah, that’s what I thought too.” His voice drifted, and then he seemed to turn inside himself, slowly altering from loose to stiff once again.
Sirus moved closer to Noah and touched his arm. “You okay?”
Noah jerked and shook his head. “Sorry. I’m fine.” His focus cleared and he became all business once more. “I apologize for unloading on you. I
actually just came to tell you that you are good to move back into your home. I finished installing your new piping, everything that was damaged has been replaced and is as good as new, and I turned your water back on too. You can move back in,” Noah’s attention fell to the covered sketch of Grey again, “uh … whenever you want.”
Shit. Shit. Shit. Noah knew Sirus had been staying at Grey’s cabin during these repairs. The man must have seen Grey in town at some point, as he clearly recognized the drawing as a real person and not some random art model. Damn it, Sirus could not predict how Grey would react to someone seeing a sketch of him in the nude, let alone what the image implied. Sirus shifted from one leg to the other, suddenly wildly uncomfortable with what to say next. “Listen.”
Noah lifted a hand as he moved to the open door. “Don’t even worry about it. I’m about to go through a divorce. Believe me when I say I have no interest in slinging other people’s private business to the gossips down in town.” His face took on a haunted quality that weighed down the air around them in a blanket of loneliness. Sirus recognized the features; he had looked much the same when he’d walked away from Paul after realizing his former lover would never be the man Sirus needed him to be.
“Thank you for your discretion.” Sirus leaned against the doorjamb and looked at Noah, a man obviously struggling with his life. The dark circles and deeper grooves in the lines of Noah’s face made so much more sense to Sirus now than when he noticed them a few days ago. “I’m here if you need me,” Sirus offered. “I know we’re not best friends or anything, but I’m serious about that.”
