They were finally off duty. Woody wondered if Mack remembered their interrupted conversation or even wanted to 46
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remember it. His adrenaline was still up. He knew it would take a while to settle down and get some sleep, but sleep wasn’t what was on his mind. Mack was on his mind. Still on his mind. Before he left the station, he looked around. Mack was not to be seen. Okay. Woody took a deep breath. He’d have to face reality. He hadn’t gotten through.
Trudging out to his car, he decided a shower and bed were the best ideas he could come up with. And there was Mack, out in the parking lot, leaning up against the hood of his car, arms folded over his chest. “Hey, what’s going on?”
Mack just looked at him, his breath coming shallow and rough.
Suddenly, the last thing Woody wanted was sleep. His blood was fired up, and he held his breath hoping Mack felt the same. “Mack?” He met the other man’s gaze, the intensity growing, deepening in his cobalt eyes. “You can trust me.”
“Son of a bitch.” Mack shook his head but didn’t drop his gaze.
Woody’s heart detonated. A fizzing warmth shot through him, putting him on edge. He wanted the bigger man so much. Wanted them skin to skin, bare naked, touching every part of each other’s bodies. It would hurt if Mack turned away from him now, but he couldn’t force him. The guy was a tough nut to crack, but he’d be so worth it. All Mack’s angst and testosterone would be ramming into him.
It might be simple lust, but maybe that’s what he needed to get the bastard out of his system.
“Mack?” He verbally nudged the other man. Woody nervously licked his lips, pleased to see the flash of heat in Mack’s eyes. He wasn’t immune. Good.
“Not here,” Mack said quietly, resignedly.
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Chapter Seven
“My house.” Woody wanted him there, wanted Mack in his home where it was warm and real and prepared. He had condoms and lube.
Who knew what the man had, or did not have, at home.
Mack followed Woody home in his own car, parking it on the street two houses down.
Woody’s heart beat so hard and fast he was afraid he might be sick before they could even do anything. It was strange and unnerving to be heading into his house, heading for what would undoubtedly be hot sex in the bright light of morning. Their walk was sedate on the outside until the door slammed shut. Mack shoved Woody’s shoulders against the wood and took his mouth in a violent firestorm of a kiss.
Yes! This was what he’d wanted from the very first. He wanted all that considerable masculine, testosterone-driven passion. He wanted Mack’s strong, sure tongue exploring his mouth. Sliding his fingers under the knit cap, he flipped it off, his gaze settling on the thick, black hair. Putting palms to hard chest, Woody pushed away, his voice cracking. “I wondered what was under that cap. Thought maybe you were bald.”
“No, not bald.” Mack sounded confused. He cradled Woody’s head, thumbs at his jaw joints controlling his movements. His lips tantalized, their smooth surface demanding surrender, Mack’s tongue spearing combatively against his as if this was war.
He might have sounded confused, but he sure knew how to kiss.
Mack’s voice wended its sizzling way through Woody’s body. He tunneled frenzied fingers through the surprisingly soft hair—it looked unkempt but was shiny clean—lifting it off Mack’s scalp, gripping the 48
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strands tightly. When Mack groaned in response and re-angled their heads to take the kiss even deeper, Woody tightened his fingers and yanked sharply, adding a groan of his own. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
“No. What?”
“Never mind.” Placing a palm on Mack’s chest, he pushed. Tried to, anyway. Woody couldn’t take his eyes off him. Here, in the privacy of his home, he could finally focus on the harsh, rugged, gorgeous face surrounded by the wealth of thick, black, disheveled hair. Mack looked primitive, caveman-like, and mesmerized Woody with the stunning depths of his deep-blue eyes. He yearned to start at the top and explore every inch of the man all the way down to his toes. He shook his head and snorted at the thought of sucking Mack’s toes. Not his favorite body part.
Mack abruptly slid away and strode into the living room.
Removing his outer jacket, he laid it neatly over the back of a chair and headed for the bookshelves. Woody’s heart squeezed with anxiety. Oh my God, he’s staying. He’d been anticipating Mack running for the hills, but how could he possibly after that blistering kiss?
“Nice place.”
“Thanks.”
“Looks like you read a lot.”
Mack turned to him, his gaze full of both confusion and arousal.
Thank you, God.
Woody knew he’d have to take control of the situation. Mack might be older and probably more experienced, but apprehension flowed off him in waves right now. He looked scared and, at the same time, distinctly ravenous.
His mouth turned to dust and his limbs to lead, but he forced himself to step closer. “Take this off.” He pulled Mack’s T-shirt out of his pants but, in sudden nervousness, got everything—T-shirt, plaid shirt, and arms—all tangled up together. “Sorry, sorry,” he murmured I’ll Be Your Last
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nervously while pulling it all off and tossing everything to the floor.
He gasped, almost lost his breath at the sight of a magnificent, lovely, firm chest with pecs layered in thick, black hair. Woody sighed, eyelids dipping for a moment. His stomach clenched. His heart beat hard.
He’d known Mack’s chest would be this masculine. “God, you must pump iron. I’ve never seen such an amazing…” Woody’s voice faded away.
Mack actually chuckled. “You can keep admiring me while I do this.” He trapped Woody’s neck between big palms, lips drifting over his throat and into the open collar of his shirt.
All Woody heard was Mack’s harsh breath. All he felt was hot puffs of air bathing his skin, skin still cold from the outside but heating up quickly. The kisses turned to sharp, fast nips that would leave marks for sure. Woody wanted the marks, maybe needing the proof later that this really happened.
With quick, sure fingers, Mack slid Woody’s jacket and shirt down his arms and dropped them with a plonk onto the floor. They stood there, staring—almost glaring—into each other’s eyes, bare chests bumping and heaving for air. Mack’s blue gaze darkened with increasing arousal. Woody dropped to his knees to the place of real importance. His mouth was at belt-buckle height, but there was no belt. Just a snap and zipper, the hiss of it lowering agonizingly loud over their heavy breathing and Woody’s wolfish growls.
Woody unclipped Mack’s gun and holster, and his, too, while he was at it, laying both on the coffee table. Then, he palmed Mack’s hips, pushing his jeans down. Commando. Oh, the pure, intoxicating rapture of that. Then a glorious erection jutted right in his face. “God, Mack.” He groaned at the beautiful, thick, pulsing cock begging for attention. He couldn’t resist flicking out his tongue and licking the rounded head with its leaking drop of seminal fluid, the musky perfume of sex filling his head.
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“Suck me,” Mack ordered gruffly, flexing his hips. “Suck my cock, kid.”
Woody jerked back, almost knocking Mack over. He stood, fists clenched at his sides, and lashed out in fury, “I’m no kid, and you know it. Call me that once more, and your dick can just stay dry.”
“I’m tired of standing. Where’s your bedroom?” He glared daggers at Mack, his breathing roughening in his struggle to keep from belting the guy. This was bad. The feral expression on Mack’s face did nothing short of amp up his arousal.
This was going to be so good, so fucking raunchy.
Woody would prove he was no goddamned kid. His nostrils flared in excitement, and he wasted no time in shoving a stumbling Mack toward his bedroom. They’d need to be
there eventually for round two. Might as well get there now.
He shoved Mack onto the bed, yanking his shoes, socks, and finally, jeans off, tossing them all on the floor. At Mack’s carnal and surprisingly vulnerable cobalt gaze, he froze at the sight of the beautiful naked body, the broad chest, narrow hips, flat belly, and muscular thighs stretched out on the white sheets. Roughly, he lifted and spread Mack’s knees, crawled between them, and stopped. His heart seized at the intimacy of seeing the balls and pucker on display, the asshole he’d dreamed of taking. He liked being fucked, and he liked doing the fucking. And this was one man he really wanted to fuck.
Narrowing his gaze, he taunted, “Does a kid do this?” Leaning down, he licked the thick head of Mack’s cock, rolled his tongue around, getting him all wet, probing the slit, nipping at it, scraping his teeth over the sensitive flesh.
Mack groaned, and his penis swelled longer and harder, apparently responding to the rough treatment.
With a lavish lick at the salty drop slithering from the hole, Woody glanced up and, lifting an eyebrow, challenged, “Huh? Am I still a kid to you?”
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Mack grunted, and, with an evil smirk, he thrust his erection toward Woody’s lips. “Suck me off and swallow it, kid. You do that, and I’ll call you a man.”
“You son of a bitch!” Woody used Mack’s hard thighs as leverage to push himself to his feet and back away. “You’re just here for a blow job? I don’t need to suck you off to prove I’m a man.” He’d never been this furious before in his life. “I’m not playing games with you. Get the hell out of here.”
With all this testosterone and adrenaline working, he should have realized Mack just wanted a physical outlet. It would mean nothing to Mack. Woody would mean nothing.
* * * *
Mack realized instantly he’d gone too far. “This isn’t a game.” He grabbed Woody’s arm and yanked him down on the bed beside him, gripping his jaw— oh yeah, his beard’s soft—and slinging a thigh over his legs.
Woody’s long lashes rested on his cheeks. Then his eyes opened, his gaze intrigued and eager. Woody didn’t want to stop this any more than Mack did.
Their kisses had been much more addictive than he’d imagined possible. Woody’s lips held firm against his, the short hairs of his beard tickling. Mack licked, roughly working his way inside his mouth. Then Woody was his. Pressing his hairy chest on Woody’s hard one, the warm, sleek skin a comfort all its own, he took his mouth, scraped his teeth with the flat of his tongue, teasing the tip across the roof, suckling Woody’s tongue.
It’d been a long time since he’d felt this out of control. Breaking the kiss, he pushed up. “Where’s your stuff?” He was frantic to fuck the kid. “I want inside your ass.”
Woody’s expression was dazed. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Drawer.” He pointed in the direction of the nightstand.
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“You can’t be fucked with your jeans on.” Mack gripped Woody’s snap, lowered the zipper, and shoved the pants down long legs, leaving him in gray boxer briefs stretched snugly around lightly furred, muscular thighs. Muscular just like his. His heart stuttered with desperate need. Woody’s body was everything he wanted in another man.
The tight knit of the boxers barely hid Woody’s sizeable cock, erect and ready to bust out of the soft material. Mack yanked the shorts off and wrapped his fingers around Woody’s shaft, caressing his cock from base to tip. His eyes closed in the pleasure of controlling the hard heat, his mouth watering for a taste.
He had no intention of depriving either of them of that pleasure, and lowered his mouth to slide over the head. Nothing in the world was as delicious as another man’s red, shiny cockhead, glistening wet with spit and pre-cum. He licked it like an ice-cream cone, sticking to the tip, tonguing and nipping the slit the same as Woody had done to him. Mack needed the rough handling of his dick. He’d find out if Woody did, too.
With a shout, Woody jerked his hips off the bed, thrusting his cock full into Mack’s mouth.
His nose nestled in Woody’s pubic hair. Oh, yeah! Man scent made him hungry for more. Mack put all his expertise into sucking Woody off. He traced the sensitive vein up the underside, first with his thumb, then felt Woody’s throbbing pulse beat on his tongue. His fingers caressed soft, hairy balls, cupped each in turn and squeezed gently, then held both in one hand, strumming and flexing, wringing out a loud groan.
Mack pulled his mouth off. “D’ya like this?” He brushed his thumb over the slippery tip, enjoying the velvety texture of hot skin.
“God, yeah. More.” Woody’s voice was barely above a whisper.
His thumb kneading where his mouth had been, Mack dipped his head and wrapped his lips around Woody’s balls, slithering his tongue over and between them. He slid the forefinger of his other hand along I’ll Be Your Last
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the sensitive area between balls and anus, massaging in pressing circles.
Woody’s hips squirmed and thrust, his moans loud, his fingers clutching Mack’s hair, yanking the strands.
Mack closed his eyes, reveling in the exquisite pain.
Keep focused. He had Woody close and wanted him to come soon.
His own cock, thick and throbbing, needed to be inside the tight ass.
Excited by Woody’s responsiveness, Mack pressed his anal pucker, his fingers surging rhythmically against the tight ring.
It’s not going to be tight much longer. “I need lube now, buddy.” Mack pulled up and braced himself on hands and knees above Woody. “Where?” he demanded.
Woody whimpered, gripping his cock, and pointed again to the bedside table. “Jesus, hurry. You’re killing me.” Mack shuffled over on his knees and opened the drawer. Lube, condoms, and what’s this? He pulled out the glass butt plug and turned to Woody with raised eyebrows. “Classy, man. This might be useful.” His gut clenched at the needy, frenzied look in Woody’s eyes and the agonized, low moan. God, yeah, toys and pain.
Grabbing the supplies he needed, he opened the lube container and slathered his fingers with the gel. Widening Woody’s thighs so he could watch, he again circled the tight ring, massaging and pushing his middle, thickest finger inside, slowly and determinedly. He glanced at Woody’s face, to the screwed shut eyes, to the upper teeth biting viciously into the lower lip.
Woody’s eyes opened slowly, and he gave Mack a look of such heat, he felt his own cock surge and leak.
“Yes, fuck me,” Woody growled.
Yeah, he wanted it. Mack’s blood-engorged cock ached, felt as hard as granite. He wanted to come so badly, but he needed Woody to come first, needed Woody’s hole to open up a little more. A lot more, since his penis was not small by any means. Gritting his teeth, he pulsed and played with Woody, shoving in more and more of the 54
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lube, until he got his finger in to the hilt. Damn, the kid was hot and tight inside, his moans and squirming hips proving he was aroused.
He brushed Woody’s hand away from his cock and slid his mouth down, suckling hard, and at the same time crooked his finger to press the prostate.
Woody panted, his hips lurching off the bed, pulling Mack’s finger in more deeply, and came instantly, hot, thick jets erupting down Mack’s throat. He swallowed it all, hanging on until Woody was limp-limbed and sprawled on the bed, his arm thrown over his eyes, chin lifted, the muscles in his neck straining in the last throes of his orgasm.
Mack rolled a drained Woody onto his belly. He hissed in a breath at the sight of his muscular back tapering to a narrow waist and hips.
Mack slid his lips down its smooth, taut length to the firm, round globes of one of the most beautiful asses he’d ever seen. The lovely, perfect cheeks. His fascinated gaze followed the dark, deep crevice between them while he rolled a condom on, slathering both his cock and fingers liberally with the lube.
He leaned over, putting his mouth at Woody’s
ear, nipping at his lobe, “I’m gonna fuck you like I’ve been wanting.” He’d almost said
“sweetheart.” It had been that close.
Woody squirmed, groaned, and jerked his hips up. “Damn it, then do it.”
“I don’t know if your asshole is completely ready for my cock.” Mack’s voice, going deep with urgency, combined teasing and promise. He spread Woody’s cheeks and grunted to see the little pucker now softened by his fingers. “I’d love to play with your glass toy.”
Woody gave an answering moan.
“But my cock wants in first.”
“Are you going to tease me forever?” Woody looked over his shoulder, his dark hair flopping over dazed eyes.
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“I can’t hold out that long,” Mack muttered, circling Woody’s anus with impatient fingers, as if pressing smooth the elastic ridge.
“Relax some more, baby. Open up for me,” he pleaded in a soft whimper. The middle finger pushed lube inside. Then his forefinger joined in and slid smoothly just inside the tight ring, softening him up even more.
Woody squirmed, shoving back hard, sobbing crazed pleas.
Mack braced him still with a hand in the small of his back. He gritted his teeth to maintain his control. Just watching his fingers disappear into Woody’s ass was almost enough to set him off. He swatted his ass cheek—hard—once, twice.
“Yes! Harder. Deeper. Son of a bitch, fuck me already,” Woody pleaded.
“You want deep. I’ll give you fucking deep.” Mack pulled his fingers out and spread Woody’s cheeks apart. “Jesus, you’re beautiful.” His thumbs massaged each side of the mysterious, dark, glistening home for his cock.
“Mack!”
Groaning, he angled the head of his cock at the hole, pushing excruciatingly slowly, pushing with determined pressure. It felt like his head would explode before this was over. Watching his cock disappear—sliding inside—Woody’s welcoming ass was almost more than he could bear. It was more pleasure than he’d ever had or imagined having with another man.
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